My Private Nation
by Still Seeing Leaves
Summary: Quinn is stubborn, Puck is sneaky, and Rachel is ... well, she's Rachel. Spoilers for S1. ON HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** My Private Nation

**Pairing: **Quinn/Rachel

**Rating: **PG-13

**Spoilers: **Takes place after EP13 'Sectionals'.Contains major part of storyline up until said episode.

**Timeline:** The afternoon of the day after sectionals.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Glee, the songs, or even the characters.

**Author's Note:**Hi... This is the first story I'm publishing online. Or writing, for that matter. So any feedback is welcome.

* * *

Quinn stood at the traffic signal, watching the cars, the people, even the pets go by. She observed the scene before her in an oddly detached manner; looking without really seeing. She could, in a way, liken the intersection to the situation she was in presently. The girl standing at the crossroads of life. The difference was that there were no directions for her; no lights and signs and directions. All she had was an over-crowded intersection and far too many roads to chose from. And if she made the wrong choice, there wasn't any option to turn back.

Not that that thought had prevented her from making any wrong decisions. No, there had already been plenty of terrible decisions in her life, the most obvious one being getting drunk with the self proclaimed man-whore. She should have smartened up when she saw the results of the first pregnancy test, and the one after that, and the one after that. But she got scared instead, and went even further down the path she was trying to escape from.

Lying to Finn, the sweet, sometimes stupid boy who promised to stand by her. Lying to her parents, even though she knew it would become impossible to keep it hidden beyond a point, even from their deluded eyes. Lying to each and every person she cared about, who's approval meant the world to her. Quinn was, and always would be, Head-Bitch-In-Charge, but that didn't mean she had a heart of stone. And she sure as hell wasn't stupid. She knew she couldn't continue the way she'd been doing for the last few months; dodging and manipulating till the truth tumbled out in the worst ways possible.

She walked on aimlessly as random thoughts flitted through her head, sitting down on a roadside bench when her legs started protesting. Looking down at the bump that seemed so prominent now, she wondered what was she supposed to do. Quinn didn't really know how to get by without the facades and the pretenses she'd become adept at keeping up. Right up till now, the person she had made sure people perceived her to be had taken over her in such a way that she was no longer sure of whether she could function without that part of her.

And yet, she didn't want to. Till now, she'd been convincing herself that there wasn't any other way, that the one way where she'd have to tell the most lies was the best way. And it became easier as she dug herself in deeper. The more lies she told, the greater was the price she'd have to pay on getting caught. So it had become a simple matter of not getting caught, no matter what it took.

But now... Getting caught or whatever wasn't exactly a problem. Her parents knew, her friends, if you could call them that, also knew. And Finn, obviously. Maybe this was God's way of telling her that it was time to start afresh. Or as fresh as she could, anyway.

Quinn got up from the bench eventually, the rumbling in her stomach reminding her that the Cheerios' Eat-Less-Puke-More diet was not the ideal thing for her at this point in time. Delving into her pockets, she pulled out a handful of coins, the only money she had left. Finn's mom had been paying for everything so far, but she hadn't had the guts to show her face at his house till now. It seemed that burger and fries would be making up her lunch. Not the most nutritious thing, but you take what you can get.

Just as she turned to walk towards the nearest burger joint, an over-enthusiastic skater collided with her, knocking the money out of her hand and sending it to the floor, spinning and scattering on the sidewalk.

"Watch where you're going, asshole!" she shouted after his retreating back, squashing the urge to chase after him and knock him down. Her hormones were making her crazier than usual, and a helluva lot more short tempered. Plus, with the baby bump and her back acting up all the time, bending down and crouching wasn't the most inviting prospect.

"Stupid freakin' moron," she murmured darkly, bending down to collect the money. A hand covered hers and she looked up, finding herself face-to-face with Noah Puckerman. Just brilliant. The only person who was required to complete her wonderful day.

"Hey," he said as he shifted her hand away and started picking up the money.

"Puck, are you following me? Because I meant what I said-"

"Whoa ... back off, baby mama. Pool in area. Me pool cleaner," he said, quickly cutting off her rant sessions. The shouting probably wouldn't do wonders for the baby, and Puck really wasn't in the mood for lectures. After Mr. Shue, Rachel, Glee Club, Mrs. Hudson (yeah, even her), he was half-afraid that random strangers would start berating his irresponsibility.

"Oh," she diverted her gaze. "Well, thanks then."

"Two dollars, ten cents," he said, counting the coins before placing them in her hand. "The only way you'll survive on that is if you buy a lottery ticket and get real lucky."

"Back off, Puck." Her already sour mood probably contributed to her irritability, but Quinn was more than a little fed up of Puck to begin with. The guy meant well, but she preferred having her breathing space. And anyway, he wouldn't have to have been standing here and meaning well if he hadn't forgotten that damn condom in the first place.

"Chill. All I'm saying is that you need a place to crash. I know Finn asked you to leave and... I've kinda been saving up and stuff," he said, averting his eyes bashfully. "I'll get enough money for our kid, for You. My sister's agreed to move into my room, so we have space for you guys... It'll be totally cool. Even my mom's okay with it." He was starting to get slightly excited as he spoke, and it showed. He got the furrowed-eyebrows, I'm-gonna-be-a-caring-daddy expression on his face, and barely even registered the flabbergasted look on Quinn's face.

"Your mother is going to be okay with _what_, exactly?" she asked in an icy tone, arching an eyebrow.

"With the baby, and with you moving in with us," he said, lying with practiced ease. Truth was, his mom had freaked. It was the first time he'd seen her this crazy since his dad had moved out. A sixteen year old, blond, _catholic_ cheerleader. Pregnant. With his kid. Oh yeah, that had gone down really well. But in the end, he was her boy. What choice did she have?

Quinn just stared at him. "Okay, deep breaths. Don't throttle him. DON'T," she thought to herself, trying to get her anger under control. "This isn't Finn," she reminded herself. "No. Puck is _not_ this dense."

"Are you really this big an idiot or are you just pretending to irritate me?... Did you not hear a word of what I said yesterday? I'm doing this _alone_. Which means not with anybody else, in case you don't get it," she said, trying her level best to keep her voice firm, but calm.

"God. I know you're stubborn, but now you're being a psycho bitch. Come on, Quinn. You have nothing. What'll you do alone, huh? I'm not asking you to shack up with me and play family. Just let me take care of my kid... I told you, I'm not like my dad. I want to make sure she's safe, and that you're safe." He was looking at her with the sincerest face as he spoke.

Puck was a good guy at heart, and she couldn't help but acknowledge that. He _could_ keep himself in check if he wanted to, and it looked like he really did want to this time. It would be so, so easy to just say yes. To have a place to go to at night, people who would help her and her daughter, who might actually care. And she'd finally make someone happy. How bad could that be?

"Noah," she said, covering his hand with hers, "I believe you. I know you'll be a good dad. But that should be when you're actually ready to be a dad, not when it's forced onto both of us. Moving in with you will be too much to handle right now, even for you. We'll both be miserable in the end and you know it. I'll... I'll let you be there when she's born, but I can't do this now. I'm sorry."

She got up and walked away from him, feeling a strange mixture of regret and satisfaction. She didn't know what she'd do next, and Puck was right about the money, but she'd finally, finally managed to do something right by not trapping another person in her mess. They were both young, and he didn't deserve to suffer with her. The decision to keep the baby was hers and hers alone, and she wouldn't shove the responsibility on someone else's shoulders yet again.

And with that piece of knowledge, Quinn went away holding her head up a little higher than before, leaving Puck sitting where she had been just a few minutes ago.

So she wouldn't let him help her directly. Fine. Noah hadn't become Puck by playing it straight. When he wanted something done, Puck would twist anyone and anything to make sure it was.

* * *

Puck hadn't had what you could describe as a happy life. Or a stable one, for that matter. His parents marriage was one born out of a whirlwind high school romance, with the shy girl falling for the rugged, rough around the edges bad boy. It was a typical story, with a typical ending. They'd had two children and a tonne of affairs before understanding that sometimes bad-ass boys never grew into men, and that initial romance wasn't enough to sustain a lifetime of troubles.

Reforming wasn't an option for Barry, and compromising wasn't one for his wife. She accepted his behavior towards her, but as their children grew older and began to understand more of the world, asking questions that were best left unanswered, she knew that their dysfunctional life wasn't the one she wanted for her children.

Puck's parents never officially got divorced, since neither of them wanted to get married to anyone else and the legal hassle wasn't an inviting prospect. And that, in a way, helped shape his beliefs about relationships and commitment. It was all just a fucking huge farce, dating and marriage and all that crap. But his mom staying with them, raising them however well she could also taught him the value of family.

Not that his dad was completely MIA. He still made an appearance from time to time, staying for a few days before disappearing again without a word or note. Puck had gotten used to it by now, feigning indifference whenever his father came and left, but the look on his sister's face every time something like that happened made him want to knock that man dead. He hoped that she'd get used to shrugging it off just like he had, because his dad sure as hell wasn't going to change.

Barry was the absolute perfect example of a wasted life. He was smart enough, with enough muscular strength for manual labor, but he simply chose to spend his time doing nothing at all. All his energy was spent flirting with random women and getting up to crazy stunts with the neighborhood boys, while his wife took up jobs to give their children a decent, if not exceptionally good, life.

Although he did have one redeeming feature - he was never an abusive man. There wasn't ever any violence around the house, and the shouting was infrequent enough to escape notice. Barry tried to keep the majority of his affairs and drunk ramblings a secret from the kids. He was irresponsible, but not totally devoid of a conscience. Even though he did think sometimes that he could have done so much better with his life, he didn't take his frustration out his family, nor did he create a hostile environment for them. But he never created a safe one either.

Noah never understood why children looked up to their dads so much. He envied them, for having someone they thought was so perfect, and this jealousy became a big reason for his need to be above them all, to keep them under his thumb. He wanted to show that not having a dad who knew what he was doing didn't matter. He could get along just fine without him - grow up faster and stronger, take care of his mom and sister, stop believing in those stupid monsters in the closet. Puck made his strength a shield for his insecurity, and made sure his bullying kept people to far away to be able to understand that.

But even with all the issues he had with himself, he had very clear rules when it came to family - no one messed with them. Puck may toss girls away like yesterday's trash, but Noah really did have a deep sense of responsibility towards his family. He did the best he could for them under his circumstances, and he sure as hell would do the same for his daughter. Ain't no baby mama gonna get in his way.

Well, sort of. He knew he needed help with Quinn, because all said and done, that girl could be thicker than Brittany when she chose to be.

The first person he went to was Santana. Kinda ironic, considering that he'd dumped her for Quinn and all; he'd be lucky if she didn't dislocate his jaw. But she was one of the very few people he knew who didn't treat Quinn like she was an untouchable, and the two girls were supposed to be friends. Sometimes.

"Well, bus-boy, I might have thought about it, but your face puts me off. Now squat." Ouch, but he still considered himself lucky.

Okay, so then Brittney next. She was sweet enough.

"Finn threw Quinn out? But wasn't her basement, like, on the first floor? That must've hurt." Nope. Not somebody you'd imagine looking after a hormonal, pregnant teenager. He couldn't even bring himself to ask her. Or inform her of the fact that a basement was usually not located on the first floor.

Crap. He didn't really have many other options. Tina freaked the hell out of him, though he wouldn't tell anyone. I mean, the guy had a solid rep to protect. No Goth chick scares Puckerman. And Mercedes would gladly gut him before feeding him to piranhas. And out of all the guys he knew, the only two who wouldn't jump Quinn were Artie and Kurt, both for obvious reasons. But he'd heard Artie already had an over-taxed family. They couldn't handle any more people, and he wouldn't embarrass the guy by asking him. Kurt then. He was practically a girl by his own admission.

"Well, to be blunt, Quinn is rather exacting and fairly high-maintenance. Not only does my skin break out in hideous pimples at the first signs of discord, I have no idea how I'd react to all her baby hormones . And anyways, my father wouldn't be comfortable having a woman in the house, especially one in her condition. My sincerest apologies." Good thing Kurt wouldn't be getting a girlfriend anytime soon.

Shit. Crappy freakin' toad shit. What the hell was Puck supposed to do now? Useless no-good ditchers. God. The soccer team was better than these idiots. She was a pregnant girl, for crying out loud!

Damnit. There wasn't anyone left to ask… Well… There was one person. NO... No WAY…

* * *

"Hey Berry, you there?" said Puck, peeking into the partially dark auditorium. She wasn't with the rest of Glee-Club at the bowling alley, nor was she at home. Where else could Rachel Berry be found?

"Noah," asked Rachel, emerging from behind one of the wings. She'd been trying to develop a new dance routine, but the steps kept eluding her. Tying her hair back, she regarded him curiously."Shouldn't you be out celebrating with the rest of the club?"

"Shouldn't you?"

"I... I believe my time would be better spent focusing on our next competition, which will inevitably be tougher," said Rachel. Of course, the real reason she was here was that no one was speaking to her after she'd spilled the beans of Quinn and Puck's liaison to Finn. They seemed to think that what they'd been doing - bitching about Quinn's deceptiveness while helping her keep Finn in the dark- was better. "What happened yesterday was absurd. We should have had a back-up set list and choreographed routine, but I was far too distracted to think of it. That can't-"

"Berry," said Puck firmly, cutting her off mid-rant.

"I'm sorry. What brings you here?" She regarded him with a guarded curiosity, having an inkling of what he wanted and not quite sure how she fit into it.

"Something kinda came up. And I thought you could help me with it," said Puck, shifting from one foot to the other restlessly. Even a moron could tell that he was nervous. Or at least apprehensive.

"Proceed."

"I know I was terrible to you when we broke up. And I already told you what I felt about the slushies... You totally don't owe me anything, but you're the only one left who I can ask."

"This is about Quinn, isn't it?" asked Rachel, knowing perfectly well that the blonde was the only reason Puck would be here right now. She couldn't, however, figure out what he wanted.

"How'd you know?"

"Contrary to popular belief, I'm not _completely_ self-absorbed. I do understand the ramifications of what happened yesterday and was in fact pretty sure you would be trying to help Quinn in whatever way possible."

"So.. you get that she needs another place to stay now that Finn knows the baby isn't his?"

"I did realize that Quinn would be in need of alternate living arrangements, yes, although I must admit I'm not the first person one would turn to in that matter."

"Yeah. I know its loony and that you guys aren't really in love," Puck said, smirking along with her at his choice of words. "But she has no other place to go, 'cause she's being freakin' stupid about the whole thing and refusing to come with me. I don't know who else to ask. Take her in, Berry. For the baby, if you don't want to do it for her... She's planning to live on hot dogs and burgers from the woman's shelter, and that kid needs better stuff or she might turn out weird."

"There is absolutely _no_ need blackmail me Noah. I'm perfectly willing to provide a hospitable environment for Quinn," _said _Rachel." Since I'm the reason she doesn't have one in the first place," _thought_ Rachel. "But I'd like to ask how you got Quinn to agree to stay with me. It's seems rather odd, considering she refused your offer."

"Yeah, about that," said Puck slowly, "she doesn't really know."

"Excuse me?.. Noah Puckerman, are you insane? You want Quinn to come and live with me, without her consent?"

"Oh, come on. You think she'd agree to this? Seriously?" Noah was, for the first time in his life, praying really really hard. He needed Rachel to agree to this, or his baby mama would be living in some down in the dumps shelter. Where a brick might fall on her head.

"Noah, as a fellow glee-clubber and a person who can _deeply_ empathize with the social rejection Quinn faces, _I_ will gladly extend my home, my facilities, and even any financial aid she may require for her pregnancy. However, we are both aware that she would rather give her child to Mr. Shuester's mentally imbalanced wife than share a home with me. Even you, besotted as you are, can recognize the flaw in your scheme."

Okay. "Um…" He kept quiet for the minute it took him to translate Rachel-speak to English. "Come on Rachel. Don't give me that crap about her not wanting it. You're great at convincing people when you want to do something bad enough... Work that Broadway Diva magic. Please".

Good God. Noah Puckerman said please. To Rachel Berry. This was obviously a do-or-die situation... There was no love lost between Rachel and Quinn, but she couldn't have a pregnant, homeless girl on her conscience. She'd heard plenty of horror stories about those shelters from her dads, and Quinn being Quinn, would probably manage to piss every single person off five minutes after she got there.

"I believe that this is the first time you've employed the use of my given name since the demise of our relationship. And according to the behavioral analysis course I took, it very clearly indicates your severe mental distress. Very well, Noah. I shall do my utmost to befriend Quinn, but you cannot expect me to physically haul her into my home."

Little did Rachel know that the next few hours would have her eating her words. And they were quite a mouthful.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** My Private Nation

**Pairing: **Quinn/Rachel

**Rating: **PG-13

**Spoilers: **Takes place after EP13 'Sectionals'.Contains major part of storyline up until said episode.

**Timeline:** The afternoon of the day after sectionals.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Glee, the songs, or even the characters.

**Author's Note: **This chapter almost refused to be written. I'm not sure exactly how well the interaction b/w Quinn and Rachel has turned out. Apologies in advance for any awkwardness. And a thank-you to my beta Rainbombz for the editing work.

* * *

Rachel stood outside the door of McDonald's, observing Quinn through the glass walls. The girl was taking her time - meticulously separating the components of her burger, then taking bites that even mice would be ashamed of. The easiest way to explain this behavior was that Quinn wanted a place to sit peacefully for a few hours. Or maybe she just wasn't very used to solid food after Coach Sylvester.

Either way, Rachel couldn't gather the courage to approach her even though she looked perfectly docile at the moment. It was one thing to tell Noah that she would try, and quite another to go up to the girl who's life she had effectively ruined, and demand that she come home with her. Granted, Quinn had said she didn't blame Rachel for what had happened, but that was when she had a million other things to bother about. Now that she'd had time to mull over it, who knew what mood she'd be in. Plus, you didn't ask someone to live with you on the basis of the fact that they 'weren't mad' at you.

"Buck up, Rachel. Remember, stage fright is an integral part of a successful performance. Go break a leg." After the umpteenth pep-talk, she finally managed to open the door and walk in, the smell of all that grease and meat making reconsider her decision for different reasons. Maybe she should have waited for Quinn to get up and come outside after all. I mean, she was pretty sure she'd find it hard to converse with the girl if she spent all her time trying not to throw up. Too late, though, since the blonde had spotted her and was looking at her with an air of aloofness that irritated Rachel.

"Hello Quinn. May I sit with you?" said Rachel, hoping Quinn would stick to her decision of not punching the brunette.

"No. You may go away instead." Quinn had the most bored look on her face that had ever been invented as she poked a whiled lettuce leaf after sparing Rachel a cursory glance.

"Quinn, I can understand that I'm the last person you wish to be with at this time, but I really do have no other table to go to," said Rachel with a brilliant smile, not the least bit fazed by Quinn's sharp retort. And it was true, the place was pretty packed.

"God, Berry. Can't you go eat somewhere else?"

"Well, I would. But I seem to have developed the strangest craving for the greas- great, for the great food served here. Please, Quinn."

"Fine. Sit. But one word out of your mouth, and I'll make sure you can never sing again." Rachel was about half a second away from running for her life, but then Quinn gave her the faintest, most short lived smile, and she took a seat.

Looking up at the brightly displayed menu on the walls, Rachel was at a loss for what to order. Honestly, anything fried was _terrible_ for her. The mere thought of all that oil coating her throat made her gag, but she had to think of something. Maybe that wrap wouldn't be too bad.

"You can stop pretending you came here to eat something. You look like you're going to pass out," said Quinn, with what could be considered a non-hostile look on her face. Well, that was certainly an improvement.

"That is _not_ true," said Rachel, halfway offended that anyone had managed to question her performance." I happen to be very fond of the food served here."

But seeing the amused look on Quinn's face, she knew the other girl wasn't buying it. Damn her. No one else, not even her Dads, had ever been able to see through one of her acts before. Oh well, no point stalling any longer.

"Quinn, I know you already said you're not mad at me, but I can't help but feel responsible for the predicament you find yourself in now. And I wish to assist you to some extent."

"Firstly, I let you off the hook. Secondly, I'm not going to let you appease your guilty conscience. I don't operate on charity, RuPaul."

Obviously being direct wasn't going to work. Not a problem. Rachel could be subtle ... Sort of.

"It's not charity, Quinn. I'm simply inviting you to dinner at my place. You can decline if you wish."

"Okay then. I decline," said Quinn, fighting to keep a straight face at Rachel's horrified expression. This was turning out to be fun.

"But.. but I..." This was probably the first and last time Quinn would get to hear the most articulate person on earth stutter, so she decided to savor it.

"But you_ what_? Thought no one could _possibly_ be able to say no to such an eloquent invitation? Yeah right, Berry. Tina could do better than that. Doesn't look like your career will be going places if you can't even form a full sentence."

Okay. Now Quinn was pissing Rachel off. The RuPaul comment she was used to - Quinn using her name would have been the awkward thing - and although not a single person would believe it, Rachel did actually know how to take no for an answer. But no one, absolutely no one picked at her Broadway dreams. That was crossing the line. Her expression changed from petrified and dazed to angry and determined, and as she clenched her jaw and positioned her hands on her hips, Quinn realized that she'd crossed some sort of invisible line and would be in trouble if she didn't do every damn thing the diva asked of her.

"Quinn Fabray, you will finish your food like a normal person in the next minute. Then you will get your pregnant behind _off_ that chair and accompany me to wherever I take you. Your time starts now," said Rachel, pulling out her watch.

Quinn polished off her food in two bites and stood up. Rachel took her hand, led her out of the doors, and opened the back door of her car for Quinn. "Get in." The comment Quinn had been about to make about the backseat disappeared into her throat, and she obediently slid in.

The ride to Rachel's house was pretty quiet. She kept shooting glances at Quinn in the rear-view mirror that kept the blond in check. Silently, she was wondering what the hell they'd do once she actually got Quinn into her house. She couldn't frighten her into submission for long, and a girl who had to be threatened to just stay for dinner at her house would not take kindly to being asked to camp out there. In the end, she decided that they'd cross that bridge when they came to it and that her Dads would come in handy; together, the Berry family could persuade the crap out of Quinn.

Meanwhile, Quinn was thinking. She couldn't say anything for the fear that man-hands would reach behind and slit her throat, but she sure as hell was confused. Rachel was the one who told Finn about the baby's father being Puck, but beyond that, it really wasn't her fault. The truth would have come out itself one day or another, and she would have been kicked out then. And while the brunette was a lot of irritating things, she wasn't dumb. She knew that she had actually played the part of a catalyst, and nothing more, in Quinn's ticking time bomb. She had apologized, and Quinn had accepted the apology pretty gracefully. That was it.

So then there was absolutely no reason for Rachel to be behaving the way she was. It wasn't even as if they were friends, not that it would make a difference. Her friends were just for the sake of appearances and they all knew it. This was weird. Maybe Berry was conspiring with Finn or someone to kill her. That would make more sense than anything else she could think of. Because Berry couldn't possibly actually care about her well-being... Or maybe she could ... No, that was insane. All she'd ever done for Berry was slushie her... and call her names implying she was transsexual... and draw pornographic pictures of her on the bathroom walls, and confess to doing it.

God, this was making her head hurt. Well, whatever it was, she would just have to wait to find out.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** My Private Nation

**Pairing: **Quinn/Rachel

**Rating: **PG-13

**Spoilers: **Takes place after EP13 'Sectionals'.Contains major part of storyline up until said episode.

**Timeline:** The evening/night of the day after sectionals.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Glee, the songs, or even the characters.

**Author's Note: **Thanks to Rainbombz for the great betaing. Please R&R, and happy reading.

* * *

Dinner with the Berry's had been … interesting so far. Although Joseph had reacted in the strangest way to hearing Quinn's name, a firm kick under the table from Sam had kept him in place. He'd almost forgotten that their daughter had no idea they knew about Quinn Fabray, which was kind of sad, considering he _really_ wanted to give the girl a piece of his mind. He kept quiet though, mindful of the fact that the girl was a guest at their home, and also that she probably had enough to deal with right now.

Joseph trusted his daughter. If she had decided that Quinn could be forgiven, then she probably had her own reasons. So he kept quiet, and listened to Quinn and Sam engaging in a heated debate over some topic he was trying not to focus on. He had watched his husband carrying on the same discussion with numerous people, and was actually slightly impressed by how a high school girl was managing to hold her own in front of Sam. The fact that she was obviously well-mannered didn't hurt either.

On the opposite end of the table, Sam's thoughts were on the same track. In the hour that he had been observing Quinn, she seemed to be a polite, soft-spoken girl, not the bitchy cheerleader he'd envisioned. And the way she spoke indicated that she deserved to be on honor-roll. Maybe this might actually work out.

"I don't think this discussion will ever be over," said Joseph, cutting in when it became obvious that the two of them would talk through the night if not interrupted. "Quinn, I should have warned you earlier; _never_ engage in a debate with my husband. He'll argue till you lose your voice. Forget about all that. Tell me, how's the food?"

"The food is _fantastic_, Mr. Berry," said Quinn, smiling at Joseph and then gazing down at her plate, which looked as if it had been polished clean. Apparently, Berry was vegan, but her dads had no issues with making some of the most delicious meat she'd ever tasted. "I've really never eaten such great turkey. Ever. I'm really glad Rachel brought me over."

Quinn wasn't lying when she said that in the most enthusiastic voice she could muster. Dinner at the Berry household had been the most fun she'd had in a long time. Contrary to her father's belief, Rachel's dad was one of the most charismatic and intellectual people she had met. This was the first time in her life that she'd ever had a meaningful conversation at the dinner table with another adult. At home, she would simply sit and listen as her father gave his opinions on the political on goings of the world, and tried to insert some sort of moral in everything. He would ask her the standard questions, and she would give standard replies. That's what made both her parents happy.

She remembered the day when she had mentioned joining Glee Club. Her father's smile had fallen by a fraction, and her mom got that slightly scared, slightly cold look in her eyes that came after any revelation that would upset her father. It wasn't on their list, and so it shouldn't have been on hers. But she had been feeling particularly happy that day, having gotten four people slushied, and had let her control slip. Seeing the look on her father's face had immediately alerted her to her mistake, and she'd changed the topic, telling them about how she had topped her advanced calculus class instead.

But that was then, and this was now. Here, in front of two complete strangers, she felt for the first time that she didn't need to keep her guard up. She was treated as an individual person, with her own independent thought process that wouldn't be demeaned or considered "inappropriate". And she was also impressed with the amount of knowledge Rachel's parents possessed about the on-going's at school. Second only to that _creep_, Jacob. She had to hand it to Rachel - the girl was brilliant at keeping her dads up-to-date without including a single line about how 99.9% of the school's population terrorized her.

Letting her guard down made such a difference to the blonde's personality that Rachel was amazed at the girl sitting across the table. Quinn looked _alive_ all of sudden; her eyes sparkled, and when she smiled she looked like she meant it. Rachel had never seen Quinn so relaxed, or so natural. She doubted many people had and seeing Quinn like this reaffirmed Rachel's faith in her decision to help Quinn; this was the kind of person she might enjoy having around the house, and she may not even have to bear the full brunt of one of her dad's 'debate moods' anymore. Just as Rachel was thinking of getting to the point of housing, Sam spoke up.

"Quinn, I hope that this isn't too up-front, but where are you planning on going now?" he asked, wanting to ease his husband into the conversation instead of dropping it on his head.

"Well, I haven't thought about it yet. There's a women's shelter about half an hour away. I'll go and look there."

"Are you telling me that your baby's father is not taking you in? Let me have word with that boy," said Joseph indignantly.

"Oh no, it's not like that at all. Puck really wanted to help me, but I can't accept right now. It's a little complicated."

Seeing how the girl's shoulders slumped a little, Sam started to feel sorry for her. He thought of how this could have been his child, and wondered what sort of parents kicked their kid out of their house, no matter what she'd done. But he didn't say anything, wanting Joseph to talk to her instead. The easiest way to get to his husband was for him to get engaged in the conversation himself.

"But where will you go now? Have you tried talking to your parents? Surely when they see-"

"_No_," said Quinn a little too firmly. "My parents won't agree to take me back. My father is very set in his decisions... And perhaps it would be better to stay away for a little while."

Rachel thought that this might be her only chance to jump in before she lost her nerve.

"Why not stay here? With us?" she interjected quickly and held her breathe.

Joseph choked on his drink, and Quinn didn't even register what Rachel had said for a minute. When she was able to process it, she looked at the brunette as if she'd sprouted a few extra heads.

"Live with you.._. You_? W-what could...," said Quinn, trailing off as the weirdness of the statement left her speechless for a moment. "In case you're forgetting, it took us half an hour of arguing before I came to dinner. And that was because of you scaring me. DON'T... Don't even try it. It won't work. Where on earth did you pick up this idea, Berry?"

"Yes, Rachel. Even I'd love to know where you picked up this idea." Joseph was looking daggers at his daughter. Asking Quinn to dinner he could understand, but why on earth would Rachel tell Quinn to live with them? Without even consulting him. Or even Quinn, by the looks of it.

"Daddy!" said Rachel indignantly, promptly deciding that offense was the best defense."What's the problem with Quinn living here? You've only made her acquaintance an hour ago, and seem to be warming up to her well."

"The _problem_, Rachel, is that you cannot just announce to me that we will be adding a new member to the house. It doesn't work that way."

Oh God. Oh good God. This was a mess. A big, ugly mess. Rachel got her tears glands up and running in case they would be required, and Sam tried not to cower under the glare he was receiving from his husband. Quinn couldn't even participate in the conversation. She was wondering how they went from having dinner together to planning to live together. The term 'U-haul' floated to the forefront of her mind.

"But I _did_ tell you. Or at least I told Dad. I am _unable_ to comprehend why he didn't discuss it with you before saying yes."

"Sam, what's going on here?" demanded Joseph, turning to his husband.

"Honey, let's just all calm down here," said Sam as calmly as he could."I thought you might like to meet Quinn before coming to any conclusions, that's all. And be reasonable. This really is the best option for her."

"Um, I'm sorry to interrupt, but I don't remember anybody asking me whether I'd be okay with this or not. What were you trying to pull, Berry?"

"Quinn, shut UP!" Rachel decided it would be easier to tackle one person at a time and, having effectively silenced Quinn for the moment, rounded on her father.

"Daddy, other than the fact that you just came to know of this situation, for which I _do_ apologize, what is the problem? _You_ are the one who is always willing to help children in similar situations. Why not Quinn?"

"Rachel, she made your life hell. I can't figure out why you want to..." Oops. The minute the words were out of his mouth, Joseph Berry knew he was in deep trouble. Rachel lost her teary-eyed teenager look and stared at him so intensely that he swore she was doing an X-ray.

"Could you please revert to the 'made your life hell' part Daddy, because I'm a little confused as to what you're talking about."

Both Joseph and Sam looked a little sheepish, trying to think of a way to defend themselves from flying plates.

"Daddy, I'm eagerly awaiting an explanation."

"Rachel, we," said Joseph hesitantly,"... we know about everything that happened to you at school."

"How? I never said anything about it," cried Rachel indignantly. Did they have some sort of sixth sense too?

"Sweetheart, you cried yourself to sleep for weeks. I was worried," said Joseph as Sam nodded, both of them remembering their anxiety when Rachel has started coming home looking so down and carrying more and more clothes to school. They'd left it alone for some time, aside from usual enquires, hoping that she felt comfortable enough to come to them, but when the days turned into weeks and their gentle prodding yielded no results, Joseph convinced Sam to take more drastic measures.

He knew how to read the signs, having worked with bullied kids all day long for years. The way his daughter was behaving made it very clear to him that something was wrong in that school, and that she was not going to tell them about it. And while he really did not wish to invade her privacy, he also knew that high-school bullying could escalate into something far uglier than a little pushing and name calling, so he'd done what he had to to figure out what exactly was bothering his little girl so much.

After they'd found out about what happened to her in school every single day, Sam had very seriously considering slapping the school with a lawsuit, but Joseph had, for once, been the one to diffuse the situation. Unless they could find another school for Rachel, the lawsuit would at most stop the physical abuse, but make her even more disliked by her peers. He understood the way children's minds worked and while he would have dearly loved to throw them in vats full of slushies, he knew that the only thing they could do to really help her was to provide a loving, supportive environment at home.

They'd introduced Rachel to their therapist, pretending that it was for family sessions, to encourage bonding and whatnot, and slowly settling her into solo therapy, hoping it might help in some way. But looking at him almost fuming daughter, he wondered whether they should have maybe stopped reading her diary after a point, or at least spoken to her about it.

"So?'

"So I might have read a few pages of your diary."

"Daddy! You had no right! How could you?"

"I had every right," said Joseph sternly. While he wasn't denying that it was intrusive, he needed to make it clear that it wasn't something he regretted. "I'm your father and I was concerned with the changes in your behavior. These sort of incidents in high school sometimes turn very serious, Rachel, and you should have known better than to hide them from me in the first place."

Both Rachel and Joseph were so immersed in their heated exchange that they forgot about Quinn, sitting and listening to every word they were saying. But Sam did notice. He saw the change that came over the girl's face as the conversation continued and went more in detail about the bullying Rachel had been subjected to, and how it _had_ affected her, even though she may be the best actress on earth and pretend otherwise. Quinn looked like she was going to be sick.

"They know _everything_," she thought_._"They've been sitting here and being _so_ nice to me and they knew the entire time." All the fear Quinn had been feeling came back to her, and that combined with the guilt she felt at hearing what she had done to Rachel made her want to throw up.

"I think I should really just go now," she said, getting up hastily."Thank you so much for the dinner, and I'm... just thanks, Rachel."

Rachel and her father stopped their almost-shouting match when they heard that.

"Quinn, wait... Wait, just sit down," said Joseph. "Go on, _sit_. I won't bite," he said, when she hesitated at the door. Seeing Quinn turn around and timidly come back into the room, he looked at his husband and daughter."Get out. I want to speak to Quinn."

Rachel and Sam obediently scurried from the room. Although Rachel was still mad at her dads, she couldn't _not_ listen to her father when he spoke in that tone. She'd probably end up venting on Sam.

And for the next 45 minutes, the door to the dining room remained firmly shut. Rachel and Sam tried listening in using all the tricks they knew, but Joseph was a little too good for that. Both of them realized that unless they could get their hands on a truth serum, there would be no way they'd every come to know what had occurred inside that room.

When Joseph came out, with Quinn in tow, they both looked like they had been crying, Quinn more than Joseph. He held up his hand wearily to stop the volley of questions from Rachel, and pointed Quinn upstairs. She quietly went, avoiding Rachel and Sam's curious gaze, and that night Rachel sent a message to Puck:** Mission Accomplished**.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** My Private Nation

**Pairing: **Quinn/Rachel

**Rating: **PG-13

**Spoilers: **Takes place after EP13 'Sectionals'.Contains major part of storyline up until said episode.

**Timeline:** The evening/night of the day after sectionals.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Glee, the songs, or even the characters.

**Author's Note: **Thanks to Rainbombz for the great betaing. Please R&R, and happy reading.

* * *

Dinner with the Berry's had been … interesting so far. Although Joseph had reacted in the strangest way to hearing Quinn's name, a firm kick under the table from Sam had kept him in place. He'd almost forgotten that their daughter had no idea they knew about Quinn Fabray, which was kind of sad, considering he _really_ wanted to give the girl a piece of his mind. He kept quiet though, mindful of the fact that the girl was a guest at their home, and also that she probably had enough to deal with right now.

Joseph trusted his daughter. If she had decided that Quinn could be forgiven, then she probably had her own reasons. So he kept quiet, and listened to Quinn and Sam engaging in a heated debate over some topic he was trying not to focus on. He had watched his husband carrying on the same discussion with numerous people, and was actually slightly impressed by how a high school girl was managing to hold her own in front of Sam. The fact that she was obviously well-mannered didn't hurt either.

On the opposite end of the table, Sam's thoughts were on the same track. In the hour that he had been observing Quinn, she seemed to be a polite, soft-spoken girl, not the bitchy cheerleader he'd envisioned. And the way she spoke indicated that she deserved to be on honor-roll. Maybe this might actually work out.

"I don't think this discussion will ever be over," said Joseph, cutting in when it became obvious that the two of them would talk through the night if not interrupted. "Quinn, I should have warned you earlier; _never_ engage in a debate with my husband. He'll argue till you lose your voice. Forget about all that. Tell me, how's the food?"

"The food is _fantastic_, Mr. Berry," said Quinn, smiling at Joseph and then gazing down at her plate, which looked as if it had been polished clean. Apparently, Berry was vegan, but her dads had no issues with making some of the most delicious meat she'd ever tasted. "I've really never eaten such great turkey. Ever. I'm really glad Rachel brought me over."

Quinn wasn't lying when she said that in the most enthusiastic voice she could muster. Dinner at the Berry household had been the most fun she'd had in a long time. Contrary to her father's belief, Rachel's dad was one of the most charismatic and intellectual people she had met. This was the first time in her life that she'd ever had a meaningful conversation at the dinner table with another adult. At home, she would simply sit and listen as her father gave his opinions on the political on goings of the world, and tried to insert some sort of moral in everything. He would ask her the standard questions, and she would give standard replies. That's what made both her parents happy.

She remembered the day when she had mentioned joining Glee Club. Her father's smile had fallen by a fraction, and her mom got that slightly scared, slightly cold look in her eyes that came after any revelation that would upset her father. It wasn't on their list, and so it shouldn't have been on hers. But she had been feeling particularly happy that day, having gotten four people slushied, and had let her control slip. Seeing the look on her father's face had immediately alerted her to her mistake, and she'd changed the topic, telling them about how she had topped her advanced calculus class instead.

But that was then, and this was now. Here, in front of two complete strangers, she felt for the first time that she didn't need to keep her guard up. She was treated as an individual person, with her own independent thought process that wouldn't be demeaned or considered "inappropriate". And she was also impressed with the amount of knowledge Rachel's parents possessed about the on-going's at school. Second only to that _creep_, Jacob. She had to hand it to Rachel - the girl was brilliant at keeping her dads up-to-date without including a single line about how 99.9% of the school's population terrorized her.

Letting her guard down made such a difference to the blonde's personality that Rachel was amazed at the girl sitting across the table. Quinn looked _alive_ all of sudden; her eyes sparkled, and when she smiled she looked like she meant it. Rachel had never seen Quinn so relaxed, or so natural. She doubted many people had and seeing Quinn like this reaffirmed Rachel's faith in her decision to help Quinn; this was the kind of person she might enjoy having around the house, and she may not even have to bear the full brunt of one of her dad's 'debate moods' anymore. Just as Rachel was thinking of getting to the point of housing, Sam spoke up.

"Quinn, I hope that this isn't too up-front, but where are you planning on going now?" he asked, wanting to ease his husband into the conversation instead of dropping it on his head.

"Well, I haven't thought about it yet. There's a women's shelter about half an hour away. I'll go and look there."

"Are you telling me that your baby's father is not taking you in? Let me have word with that boy," said Joseph indignantly.

"Oh no, it's not like that at all. Puck really wanted to help me, but I can't accept right now. It's a little complicated."

Seeing how the girl's shoulders slumped a little, Sam started to feel sorry for her. He thought of how this could have been his child, and wondered what sort of parents kicked their kid out of their house, no matter what she'd done. But he didn't say anything, wanting Joseph to talk to her instead. The easiest way to get to his husband was for him to get engaged in the conversation himself.

"But where will you go now? Have you tried talking to your parents? Surely when they see-"

"_No_," said Quinn a little too firmly. "My parents won't agree to take me back. My father is very set in his decisions... And perhaps it would be better to stay away for a little while."

Rachel thought that this might be her only chance to jump in before she lost her nerve.

"Why not stay here? With us?" she interjected quickly and held her breathe.

Joseph choked on his drink, and Quinn didn't even register what Rachel had said for a minute. When she was able to process it, she looked at the brunette as if she'd sprouted a few extra heads.

"Live with you.._. You_? W-what could...," said Quinn, trailing off as the weirdness of the statement left her speechless for a moment. "In case you're forgetting, it took us half an hour of arguing before I came to dinner. And that was because of you scaring me. DON'T... Don't even try it. It won't work. Where on earth did you pick up this idea, Berry?"

"Yes, Rachel. Even I'd love to know where you picked up this idea." Joseph was looking daggers at his daughter. Asking Quinn to dinner he could understand, but why on earth would Rachel tell Quinn to live with them? Without even consulting him. Or even Quinn, by the looks of it.

"Daddy!" said Rachel indignantly, promptly deciding that offense was the best defense."What's the problem with Quinn living here? You've only made her acquaintance an hour ago, and seem to be warming up to her well."

"The _problem_, Rachel, is that you cannot just announce to me that we will be adding a new member to the house. It doesn't work that way."

Oh God. Oh good God. This was a mess. A big, ugly mess. Rachel got her tears glands up and running in case they would be required, and Sam tried not to cower under the glare he was receiving from his husband. Quinn couldn't even participate in the conversation. She was wondering how they went from having dinner together to planning to live together. The term 'U-haul' floated to the forefront of her mind.

"But I _did_ tell you. Or at least I told Dad. I am _unable_ to comprehend why he didn't discuss it with you before saying yes."

"Sam, what's going on here?" demanded Joseph, turning to his husband.

"Honey, let's just all calm down here," said Sam as calmly as he could."I thought you might like to meet Quinn before coming to any conclusions, that's all. And be reasonable. This really is the best option for her."

"Um, I'm sorry to interrupt, but I don't remember anybody asking me whether I'd be okay with this or not. What were you trying to pull, Berry?"

"Quinn, shut UP!" Rachel decided it would be easier to tackle one person at a time and, having effectively silenced Quinn for the moment, rounded on her father.

"Daddy, other than the fact that you just came to know of this situation, for which I _do_ apologize, what is the problem? _You_ are the one who is always willing to help children in similar situations. Why not Quinn?"

"Rachel, she made your life hell. I can't figure out why you want to..." Oops. The minute the words were out of his mouth, Joseph Berry knew he was in deep trouble. Rachel lost her teary-eyed teenager look and stared at him so intensely that he swore she was doing an X-ray.

"Could you please revert to the 'made your life hell' part Daddy, because I'm a little confused as to what you're talking about."

Both Joseph and Sam looked a little sheepish, trying to think of a way to defend themselves from flying plates.

"Daddy, I'm eagerly awaiting an explanation."

"Rachel, we," said Joseph hesitantly,"... we know about everything that happened to you at school."

"How? I never said anything about it," cried Rachel indignantly. Did they have some sort of sixth sense too?

"Sweetheart, you cried yourself to sleep for weeks. I was worried," said Joseph as Sam nodded, both of them remembering their anxiety when Rachel has started coming home looking so down and carrying more and more clothes to school. They'd left it alone for some time, aside from usual enquires, hoping that she felt comfortable enough to come to them, but when the days turned into weeks and their gentle prodding yielded no results, Joseph convinced Sam to take more drastic measures.

He knew how to read the signs, having worked with bullied kids all day long for years. The way his daughter was behaving made it very clear to him that something was wrong in that school, and that she was not going to tell them about it. And while he really did not wish to invade her privacy, he also knew that high-school bullying could escalate into something far uglier than a little pushing and name calling, so he'd done what he had to to figure out what exactly was bothering his little girl so much.

After they'd found out about what happened to her in school every single day, Sam had very seriously considering slapping the school with a lawsuit, but Joseph had, for once, been the one to diffuse the situation. Unless they could find another school for Rachel, the lawsuit would at most stop the physical abuse, but make her even more disliked by her peers. He understood the way children's minds worked and while he would have dearly loved to throw them in vats full of slushies, he knew that the only thing they could do to really help her was to provide a loving, supportive environment at home.

They'd introduced Rachel to their therapist, pretending that it was for family sessions, to encourage bonding and whatnot, and slowly settling her into solo therapy, hoping it might help in some way. But looking at him almost fuming daughter, he wondered whether they should have maybe stopped reading her diary after a point, or at least spoken to her about it.

"So?'

"So I might have read a few pages of your diary."

"Daddy! You had no right! How could you?"

"I had every right," said Joseph sternly. While he wasn't denying that it was intrusive, he needed to make it clear that it wasn't something he regretted. "I'm your father and I was concerned with the changes in your behavior. These sort of incidents in high school sometimes turn very serious, Rachel, and you should have known better than to hide them from me in the first place."

Both Rachel and Joseph were so immersed in their heated exchange that they forgot about Quinn, sitting and listening to every word they were saying. But Sam did notice. He saw the change that came over the girl's face as the conversation continued and went more in detail about the bullying Rachel had been subjected to, and how it _had_ affected her, even though she may be the best actress on earth and pretend otherwise. Quinn looked like she was going to be sick.

"They know _everything_," she thought_._"They've been sitting here and being _so_ nice to me and they knew the entire time." All the fear Quinn had been feeling came back to her, and that combined with the guilt she felt at hearing what she had done to Rachel made her want to throw up.

"I think I should really just go now," she said, getting up hastily."Thank you so much for the dinner, and I'm... just thanks, Rachel."

Rachel and her father stopped their almost-shouting match when they heard that.

"Quinn, wait... Wait, just sit down," said Joseph. "Go on, _sit_. I won't bite," he said, when she hesitated at the door. Seeing Quinn turn around and timidly come back into the room, he looked at his husband and daughter."Get out. I want to speak to Quinn."

Rachel and Sam obediently scurried from the room. Although Rachel was still mad at her dads, she couldn't _not_ listen to her father when he spoke in that tone. She'd probably end up venting on Sam.

And for the next 45 minutes, the door to the dining room remained firmly shut. Rachel and Sam tried listening in using all the tricks they knew, but Joseph was a little too good for that. Both of them realized that unless they could get their hands on a truth serum, there would be no way they'd every come to know what had occurred inside that room.

When Joseph came out, with Quinn in tow, they both looked like they had been crying, Quinn more than Joseph. He held up his hand wearily to stop the volley of questions from Rachel, and pointed Quinn upstairs. She quietly went, avoiding Rachel and Sam's curious gaze, and that night Rachel sent a message to Puck:** Mission Accomplished**.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** My Private Nation

**Pairing:**Quinn/Rachel

**Rating:**PG-13

**Spoilers:**Takes place after EP13 'Sectionals'.Contains major part of storyline up until said episode.

**Timeline:** The next day, which I've made a Saturday. I'm not very sure when exactly sectionals were held, so let's pretend it was Thursday, the Glee-Club got a holiday on Friday, and this day is Saturday.

**Disclaimer:**I don't own Glee, the songs, or even the characters.

**Author's Note:**Thanks to Rainbombz for the great betaing. Please R&R, and happy reading.

* * *

One New Message Received.

**Sender**: Rachel Berry

**Text:** Mission accomplished. You owe me. A LOT.

Puck let out the breath he'd been holding since he saw Rachel's name on his cell. However wonderful he may find Quinn, he knew that she was wayyy to stubborn for her own good. He'd actually been a little concerned for Berry's safety since he hadn't heard from her for almost the whole day. He didn't want to be the one to inform her parents that her body had been found in a ditch or something, mutilated by a hormonal teenager. Now he finally had the reassurance that his baby would be in a safe place. From what he'd seen of Berry, her dads had to be great people. It was a tough job not to murder her in the first 10 seconds of her opening her mouth, and they'd managed not to do so for years. He sent a little thank you to the dude sitting down in hell, 'cause he was pretty sure the guy upstairs hadn't been the one to answer his prayer.

Okay. Now that the housing issue had been sorted out he turned to the next item on his agenda (Yes, Puck did have one of those). He knew that pregnancy took money. Money that Quinn didn't have. After aiming a few choice swear words in the direction of her parents, Noah began to calculate how much she would need, and how much he could put aside. The Berrys would be giving Quinn "financial aid," as Rachel put it, but he wanted to contribute as much as possible. Ultrasounds, baby equipment and doctor's visits didn't come cheap, and he didn't want for the Berry's to have to pay for all of that when they didn't have the remotest connection with any of it.

After about an hour of calculations and asking his mom questions which she answered with lectures, he figured out that his pool cleaning money wouldn't be nearly as much as he wanted to give her. Well, not her directly, since she'd made it pretty clear she didn't want his help, but Rachel maybe, to pass on to her dads. Giving them fifty dollars for stuff that cost hundreds would be downright embarrassing, so he pulled out a pen and opened up the 'Classified' section of the paper, scrolling down the list trying to find something he was good for.

* * *

In the Berry household, Quinn was going nuts. She was really grateful for what they were doing for her and everything, but what was the point in giving someone a bedroom if you didn't let them sleep? Her room was right next to Rachel's, and that girl was some sort of damn rooster. She woke up at the crack of dawn and started blaring some really irritating, over-peppy music. No wonder her dads preferred to sleep at the other end of the hall. After trying and trying to block out the noise with an over-stuffed pillow, she'd had enough. Cranky pregnant chick needed her beauty sleep, and Rachel Berry of all people was not going to deprive her of it.

Knock knock. Knock Knock. KNOCK KNOCK **KNOCK**. Rachel opened the door to find a nearly-hyperventilating Quinn standing in front of her with a pillow in hand. She immediately jumped back, exclaiming, "Whatever it was, I am _not_ responsible."

"Oh yes you are. That 'sound'," she said, almost shuddering at the word," blaring out at illegal volumes at an illegal time is from your iPod. So yeah, you're responsible."

"It's six thirty am, Quinn. Hardly what one would call an 'illegal time'," said Rachel, wiping away the line of sweat the as forming on her brow. "I have found that waking up to energetic music vitalizes my mind, and that in turn drives all forms of lethargy out of my body."

"I'll drive all forms of _life_ out of your body if you don't turn it down and let me sleep."

"As you wish," said Rachel, turning towards her music system. "Whoever would have guessed that the former Head Cheerio was such a lazy ass."

"How—I'm not lazy!" exclaimed Quinn indignantly before she saw the teasing smirk on Rachel's face. "You freakin' little brat. I'll show you lazy."

The next second, a pillow smacked Rachel on the head – hard – and flew off, landing on her bed.

"Insulting my fitness is as dangerous as mocking your ambition, got it?" asked Quinn with a cocky grin as she enjoyed the stunned expression on Rachel's face.

"You—You hit me!" said Rachel, trying to register the fact that Quinn, Quinn Fabray, had thrown a pillow at her. In jest.

"Oh well done, Berry. Gold star for your analytical abilities," said Quinn, trying to project confidence, hoping that Rachel wouldn't bring up the fact that throwing pillows at her arch-enemy-turned-housemate wasn't the most appropriate thing to do on her first day in the Berry household. And it worked way too well; Quinn's attitude snapped Rachel into competitive mode.

"I'll have you know, Quinn, that trying to initiate a pillow fight with me is highly unadvisable. I happen to be the reigning champion in the annual—"

"Blah blah. All bark and no bite," said Quinn, "Now why don't you run along like a good little-" Quinn was cut off by a cushion hitting her squarely on the face. "Oh, game on Berry. Game on."

Quinn advanced upon Rachel, who shrieked and ran to the other side of the room and started gathering her ammunition, both of them trying to control the giggles that were threatening to break out.

The next few minutes passed in a blur of flying pillows and blankets and anything soft enough to hurl. Both of them were lobbing anything they could get their hands on at each other while trying to maintain their balance. They were both starting to laugh more and more often, trying desperately to maintain their balance and get the upper edge.

Rachel faltered first, unable to control her laughter, collapsing in a helpless pile even as she tried in vain to fend Quinn off. Her hands were proving to be completely useless at this point in time as they had somehow managed to turn to jelly, barely providing resistance as Quinn pinned her down on the bed with the help of a pillow.

"Say I win."

"No."

"Say it," said Quinn insistently, using her entire body weight to keep the wriggling and panting Rachel down.

"I will not."

"Don't. But I'm still-" Just as she was saying that, Quinn felt _something _in the pit of her stomach. She removed her weight from Rachel, thinking that something was wrong with the baby, and clutched at her barely visible baby bump.

"What's wrong? Oh God, should I call Dad? Quinn? I'm _so_ sorry. DA-" Quinn put an end to Rachel's frantic blabbering by covering her mouth with her hand, and guiding her other hand to her stomach. A moment passed and then Rachel detected a very slight, subtle thump; a little shift against her hand that made her eyes go wide. Quinn relaxed against her hand as the baby kicked again. Their eyes met and then Quinn's face broke out in a huge grin.

"Was.. was that..." asked Rachel, the look on Quinn's face answering her incomplete question. "Wow."

"You, with your vocab of astonishing, unbelievable, remarkable, come up with a 'wow'?" Rachel was still too 'wowed' to retaliate.

"She kicked? As in actually moved her foot? And I felt it?"

"Yes, Rachel, she actually kicked, and you actually felt it." Quinn smiled at the dazed look on Rachel's face.

The ensuing silence, as both of them kept their hands on Quinn's stomach hoping for more movement, was broken by Rachel's second alarm going off and making them both jump about a foot into the air.

"It's seven already... that was fast," said Rachel, getting up off the bed. "Well, I'm going to take a bath now. And since you seem to be awake, I suggest you do the same. You can use the bathroom down the hall."

"I would, but I don't actually have any of my stuff. Not that there was much to begin with, but whatever there was is still at Finn's place. I didn't.. He..." Quinn trailed off, irritated at herself for bringing up the topic of the drama that had taken place day before yesterday and a bit embarrassed at having to admit that she hadn't picked up any of her things from Finn's house yet. Rachel had left some exquisitely soft nightclothes out for her last night along with a toothbrush, so it had been avoided till now.

"Yes, I'd figured as much. I called Finn last night and asked him to drop off your belongings after you fell into your eternal slumber. You know, it still _fascinates_ me as to how you can snore away to glory all night, and yet still manage to sleep in."

"Berry," said Quinn, faking sternness. "Remember what happens when you call me lazy? Yes you do, so don't go there. But... thank you for asking Finn to do that for me. I don't... I hope that this wasn't... that you letting me stay here isn't some sort of a problem between you guys."

"No, of course it hasn't," said Rachel, which was a flat-out fib. She still cringed a bit recollecting the short but bitter conversation she'd had with the boy last night.

"Earth to Berry," said Quinn, noticing the spaced out look on Rachel's face. "Have your Martian friends beamed you up for a chat?"

"Huh?.. No. No.. I'm not on very good terms with the Martians. They resent my superior language skills. And anyway, if they had managed to beam me up, I wouldn't be standing here conversing with you."

"So you do have an answer for everything, then?"

"Of course I do. When I become a wildly successful and critically acclaimed Broadway star in the near future, the paparazzi will no doubt hound me with the most absurd questions to try to catch me off guard. And that is unacceptable."

"Um... right, duh. I should totally have figured that out myself... And on that note, I'm going to take your suggestion and go bathe. I must be stinking."

"Well, no actually, you're not. You smell perfectly pleasant, as you should, considering you monopolized the shower for close to an hour last night."

"Hey! Not my fault that you guys have all those crazy fancy fittings in your showers. It took me ages to figure out how to control the temperature and stuff," said Quinn, neglecting to add the fact that she had repeatedly got doused with very hot and very cold water in those ten minutes, and was too stubborn to ask for help even though her teeth had started chattering due to standing there wet and naked for that long.

"You could simply have asked. But seeing as you know how they work now, I hope you'll be ready in time for breakfast. Daddy's special Saturday pancakes taste best served hot. Oh, and I put your bags in your cupboard for you," said Rachel, moving towards her own wardrobe.

"Thanks. See you downstairs," said Quinn, ignoring how odd it felt to hear the furniture in the Berry household refereed to as hers. She supposed she's get used to it eventually. "Oh, and Berry?" she said as she got to the door, waiting till she had Rachel's full attention,"I do not snore, okay?"

Rachel laughed and nodded, waiting for the other girl to disappear into the hallway before turning back to the heaps of clothes in her cupboard. She picked up the sweater that was kept separately from the rest of them and ran her fingers over the material for the umpteenth time. Normally, she would have brought it up to her face and inhaled the still lingering smell of the deodorant Finn applied, because this was the same sweater she'd been wearing when they'd kissed for the first time, when he'd pressed himself against her, and she hadn't washed it since.

It reminded her of Finn, being the one solid reminder of the boy Rachel thought she was in love with that she could pick up at any time and that could make her feel that much closer to him. But today, that didn't seem like such an inviting prospect. She sighed and folded it neatly, briefly contemplating putting in back before she softly threw it into the laundry basket, where it should have gone in the first place.

Rachel didn't really know what turn her relationship with Finn would take now, but she was becoming fairly certain that it wouldn't be one where they tried to catch each others scents off old clothes to feel a little more in love. Not after last night's conversation, anyway.

* * *

_Finn had appeared at Rachel's doorstep with Quinn's duffle bags in his hand and a confused look on his face. Rachel had taken them from him and they'd stood there on her front porch with an awkward silence hanging between them. _

_"So," said Finn finally,"You helping Quinn move or something?" The confusion was evident in his voice, making it very clear that he didn't know what to make of this situation. Rachel and Quinn weren't not-friends, they were out and out rivals and Rachel calling for Quinn's stuff didn't make any sense to him. The only thing he could come up with was that Puck and Quinn had been to scared to come by his house and they were making Rachel do their dirty work instead._

_"Move?... Oh, yes, I suppose you could say I am. Although there doesn't seem to be much to move," she said, gesturing to the tiny bags in her hand."I take it her parents didn't give her much time to gather her things?"_

_"Her Dad gave her half an hour by the clock. And she spent a lot of it crying so yeah, not that much time."_

_Rachel felt an unexpected twinge at his words, and had the strongest desire to go and punch Russell Fabray. Preferably on the nose. _

_"So um... you're going to give this stuff to him?"_

_"Why would I give Noah this? Finn, Quinn's moving in with me."_

_"She-WHAT? Rachel, are you crazy? You're letting her stay in your house? What the heck for?"_

_"Well, I know it might seem rather odd, given our past, but-"_

_"Rather odd? It makes no fucking sense. You can't let her live here!"  
_

_"Finn, please don't shout. My parents might here you, and what's more, Quinn might here you."_

_"Since when d'you care about that?"_

_"Since she couldn't stay at your house because of me. Not that I regret doing what I did, because the truth needed to come out, but that doesn't mean I'm absolved of any responsibility."_

_"The responsibility is hers. She's the one who lied to me. God, Rachel. Don't you get that this is all her fault. You don't have to help her. it's not like she has enough pull left to do anything to you in school, if that's what you're worried about."_

_"Finn, what is the matter with you? Quinn is about to have a baby and she has been kicked out of her parents home. She did not use any underhand means to gain entry into my home, nor is she threatening me in any way. In fact, she didn't even want anyone's help, and I had to convince her to come with me. Did you expect me to let her live in some teenage shelter where she'd do her level best to ignore her health?"_

_"Why can't he take her in?" asked Finn, not able to keep the bitterness out of his voice at the mention of Puck."It's his kid, isn't it?"_

_"While I did contemplate convincing Quinn to change her mind and take up Noah on his offer, I realized that it would be entirely unacceptable because of the amount of stress she'd be subjected to in his house. You know Noah's mother, Finn. Wonderful lady though she may be, she is not the ideal person to have around her son's pregnant Catholic daughter who's mental state is already fragile at best."_

_"That is not your problem! Don't you get it?" asked Finn, "She could get anyone to make her stay with them. But she wanted you so that she'd be able to get in between us."_

_"Get between... Do you even realize how self absorbed you sound right now? Quinn is not doing this to get between us, Finn. And honestly, I wasn't aware that there was any 'us' to get between."_

_"Rach, don't say that... You know how it was before, with the baby and stuff. But now that we know it's not mine, and I'm not going to be with Quinn any more so I thought that we could.. y'know, give it a shot," he said softly, burying his hands in his jacket. _

_"I-I'd like that, Finn."_

_"Great. So then you'll tell her to go?"_

_"What?"_

_"Rach, we can't be together if she's living with you. That even sounds stupid."_

_"Actually, what sounds stupid is the suggestion that in order to pursue a relationship with you, I'd have to ask Quinn to leave my house. I understand your anger at her, Finn. It's perfectly justified, considering what she did to you. But the fact is that she's living with me now, and I do not see the connection between that and us. You wouldn't even have to acknowledge her existance if you didn't wish to."_

_"That's not it... It's just, I- I can't explain exactly. But you can't help her if you want to be with me. D'you really want to chose Quinn over me?"_

_"Finn, why are you doing this?" asked Rachel desperately."There's no question of choice in this. I have wanted to be in a publicly acknowledged relationship with you for quite some time now, and I do not understand how that is related to Quinn."_

_"Because my girlfriend and my ex who made me think babies could be born in hot tubs living together is gonna make me look like an idiot. People will laugh at me, Rach. Don't you care about that at all?"_

_"Could you be more insensitive?" asked Rachel when she'd finally found her voice again after Finn's statement."She needs to stay here, Finn, or she might end up harming herself and her baby and you are telling me to throw her out onto the streets because people might laugh at you? That statement, if you look beyond the sheer absurdity of it, is juvenile. While you have every right to harbor some resentment against Quinn for the way she treated you, you cannot expect to play the slighted victim all the time, Finn."_

_"What does that even mean?"_

_"It means that what you're saying and asking me to do isn't fair. I am not going to chose between you and Quinn like we are in the second grade. She needs this far more than you seem to be able to understand, and I wish I could say I wasn't disappointed with the way you're handling this, but I am. I was always attracted to the compassion you showed towards others, Finn, even if it sometimes meant putting your own feelings or popularity aside and I can't see that compassion anywhere right now. It seems to have been overshadowed by your bruised ego."_

_"I don't have a bruised ego!"_

_"Yes you do, and you need to accept that. Not only did Quinn make a sizable dent in it by the embarrassment she caused you by sleeping with Noah and then lying so convincingly to everyone about it, you also feel this situation is equally demeaning to you. Just because I'm not bending to your childish whims and demands, it somehow translates in your head as some kind of disrespect to you as an individual, which it really isn't."_

_"Maybe not, but it sure feels like it. I'm just asking you to help her find some other place to stay, and you can't seem to be able to do that. I don't know if I can really be with you if you let her stay in your house."_

_"As much as it pains me to say this, I don't think I would want to be with you if that continued to be your stance on the matter. I-I hope you'd think this over, Finn, when you were calmer, maybe, because I honestly believe that we could be wonderful together. However, if you don't, then I'd content myself with the fact that we were only ever meant to be friends."_

_With that, Rachel softly swung the door back into place and slid all the locks in securely. She climbed up the stairs slowly, a sense of sadness descending over her at the loss of a chance at love before she even got to savor it fully. Because no matter what she tried to tell herself, she knew deep down that there was no way Finn would reconsider, seeing as she wasn't there to make him see beyond his anger as she would usually have done. _

_Rachel wondered if it was really worth it - losing the one person who'd ever liked her in that school to help the person who'd tried so hard to make her go into exile. But as she peeked into Quinn's room to check on the girl and found her sound asleep, clutching the covers tightly up to her chin with an air of tranquility surrounding her, she thought that maybe it was. _

* * *

Reviews are like mint chocolate ice cream.


	6. Chapter 6

**Title:** My Private Nation

**Pairing: **Quinn/Rachel

**Rating: **PG-13

**Spoilers: **Takes place after EP13 'Sectionals'.Contains major part of storyline up until said episode.

**Timeline:** One week later, which is a Saturday.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Glee, the songs, or even the characters.

**Author's Note: **Thanks to Rainbombz for the betaing. Please R&R, and happy reading.

* * *

The next week passed without much incident for all of them. Quinn adjusted fairly easily to their schedule and house, with Rachel hovering over her to ensure that she had everything she required. Quinn suspected that Rachel was aided in private by her fathers who, although not at all reserved, seemed to believe that it might be better if Quinn and Rachel interacted as much as possible. It was causing the occasional fallout, with both of them being high-maintenance young woman, but nothing major had creeped up yet.

Well, there was one thing, but that didn't really have much to do with Rachel. Quinn had wandered into the kitchen one day, absolutely desperate for peanut butter and mayo sandwiches, to find that it was... empty. That is if you didn't count a carton of milk and cornflakes, which Quinn most certainly did not. After confirming that there really was nothing else in the confines of their cabinets aside from various takeout menus neatly stacked away in a drawer, she'd hauled Rachel and Sam out, demanding an explanation.

It turned out that the Berry's survived primarily on take out, and the meal she'd had the day she'd arrived had been a monthly sort of event. Whenever Joseph felt like cooking, they'd wander into the supermarket and pick up a few things, but that was about it. Which, for Quinn, was alarming - one aspect of her own house that she'd actually liked was the well-stocked pantry. And so Rachel and Sam had been dragged to the supermarket, where they'd spent the next two hours picking out groceries and being duly chastised.

On getting home, Quinn had pretty much dictated to them that the kitchen was to be handed over to her to look after as she pleased. None of the Berrys objected to that, because Joseph was the only one who went in there anyway, and Quinn, it seemed, was pretty good when in came to cooking. She was determined to change their trend of ordering in every day, not only because it was bad for them, but also because Chinese take-out could not possibly satisfy all her weird and wonderful cravings.

And then there was also the fact that, because she was now contributing something other than making her bed every morning, Quinn felt a lot more at ease in Rachel's house. The thing was, that although she'd been known to abandon her scruples whenever the situation demanded, Quinn was still not someone to feel comfortable living off someone else's good nature and not lifting a finger. Even though all of them reassured her again and again that there wasn't any need for her to do anything, it was second nature to her to compensate for any facilities she was being provided, and this was her way of doing so.

All of that basically meant that things were going surprisingly smoothly for Quinn and the Berrys. Well, up until the day they were supposed to return to school anyway.

* * *

_Rachel stood near the front door in one of her trademark animal print sweaters, glancing at the clock again and again till Quinn finally appeared at the stairs in a dress that was doing a marvelous job at hiding her tiny baby bump. She knew that the car Russell had given Quinn was obviously no longer an option for the other girl, and had been wondering how to approach Quinn about it. _

_Quinn smiled at the brunette as she came to stand in front of her and waited for the other girl to open the door. When it became fairly obvious that Rachel wasn't going to budge, she spoke. _

_"I know that you're probably used to it, but I've never been late to class, Berry. So.. get going, will you?"_

_"I wished to speak to you about that... I realize that you're used to going to school in your car, but since that's not possible, I was wondering if you'd like to come with me and Daddy. He drops me off every day as it is, and he'd be more than happy to take you as well."_

_"Thanks for the offer, but no. I used to take the bus before I got the car, so I think I'll just do that now"_

_"Are you sure? We're going the exact same way, and it really wouldn't be any trouble at all."_

_"No, it's cool. Now if you could maybe move out of the way..."_

_"Of course," said Rachel, opening the door for Quinn and waiting for the other girl to walk off towards the bus stop before getting into the car where Sam had been patiently waiting for her._

_For the rest of the day, Rachel managed to avoid Quinn like the plague, while the blonde watched from the sidelines as Rachel's hopes for popularity and appreciation were crushed again and again as the day progressed. She felt terrible for Rachel, knowing that even the brunette's optimism could not penetrate the thick skulls of the imbeciles in McKinley High, and left the girl alone, thinking that that was what she wanted. Personally, she preferred keeping to herself after public humiliation, and extended the same courtesy to Rachel, even though she had felt like going after her after the repeated slushie facials. _

_But the problem was that the behavior continued after they got home. At dinner, even Sam and Joseph were giving her funny looks, and Quinn was thoroughly freaked out. Rachel Berry seemed to have perfected the art of avoidance, and no matter how hard Quinn tried, she could not seem to be able to catch the other girl. Getting fed up, she went to Sam some time after dinner- the most silent one they'd had together so far -, realizing that he probably knew what the problem was, and that he was the only person she could crack._

_"Can you explain to me why Rachel is refusing to look me in the eye," she demanded of the tall man who was sitting in his study and trying very hard to stare at the papers on his desk rather than meet Quinn's eye. _

_"I have no idea," said Sam, trying to look as casual as possible."Why don't you ask her?"_

_"Um... I would, if she didn't imitate Ms. Pillsbury and scamper off every time I came within five feet of her. And you do know what's wrong. Come on, tell me what's going on with her."_

_"Quinn, really, it'd be better if you went to Rachel. You know how she gets when people interfere in her business." Sam didn't really mind telling Quinn, because it was just one of the many diva fits his daughter was prone to having, but he really didn't think it was worth getting into trouble with Rachel again so soon after the diary incident. _

_"Sam, she doesn't want to be asked or she'd be sitting in the couch and pouting as intensely as possible. Please, just make this a little easier. I have no clue what I've done."_

_"You... You didn't ride with us to school today," said Sam hesitantly, spurred on only by the concern Quinn was showing." It bothered her."_

_"Why would it bother her? I always took the bus before I got a car."_

_"That's not really how Rachel sees it, kiddo. I think that she took it as you having a problem with arriving to school with her and her gay dad."_

_"Oh, for Christ's sake! You're kidding, right?" said Quinn ludicrously. "She cannot be this insane."_

_"Afraid she can," said Sam, a little relieved that Rachel's initial conclusion had actually been wrong. He watched Quinn storm out of the room in a way that would have made his little girl proud._

_"Berry," said Quinn, knocking on the little space on Rachel's door that wasn't occupied by the huge gold star."Open up, I know you're in there... Rachel, don't be ridiculous and just open the damn door already"_

_Silence on the other end of the door._

_"Right, if you don't open up right now, I will take this gold star and break it over my head." That one worked, with the door finally opening to reveal a sullen Rachel on the other side._

_"For your future information, I consider threats to the Gold Star to be below the belt... What is it?" Instead of replying, Quinn pushed passed her and once inside, shut the door and stood in front of it. Precautionary measures. _

_"Look at me, and then we'll talk."_

_"No."_

_"Berry," said Quinn, trying to fight of the smile that was forming on her face."I know you can't breathe without at least one diva session a day, but you've covered your quota for the day."_

_"Quinn, I have things to attend to. Would you please just tell me what the matter is and leave, please?"_

_"Fine. I... I get why you'd think I was ashamed to go to school with you. It's not like I've really behaved in any way that states otherwise since we've known each other. But you've got to believe me when I say that it's different now."_

_"Different how?" asked Rachel, still refusing to look at the blonde and choosing to fiddle with her sleeves instead."It makes no sense."_

_"It will if you let me explain," said Quinn, walking up to Rachel and tucking her hand beneath the other girl's chin, and gently coercing Rachel to lock gazes with her."I have been so, so terrible to you since the time we've met, and you've been nothing but this bright, fuzzy ball of enthusiasm. And although it might take you some time to believe this, I am grateful to you. You don't have to do any of this, but you are, 'cause you're just that kind of a person."_

_"Being grateful to me and not being ashamed of having to stay with me are two different things, Quinn," said Rachel, shrugging Quinn's hand away and fixing her with an intense stare. _

_"I'm not! There are like, a million rumors floating around about me in that school at any given time. But I am staying with you, it isn't a rumor, and I'm not the least bit ashamed of it... Might surprise you, because it sure as hell surprised me, but when Santana asked me who I was shacking up with today, I didn't feel like melting into a puddle after I took your name."_

_"You didn't?"_

_"No, I honestly didn't. I'm- I'm not a great person, y'know? I'm always bothered by the wrong things, and embarrassed about stuff that I really shouldn't be."_

_"Quinn, that's a perfectly-"_

_"Normal part of being a teenager? Yeah, okay. But I just want you to get the fact that this isn't one of those things. Whatever people at school may say, fact is, you're the one who bothered about me when all of them just passed me off as another notch on the teen pregnancy statistic chart," said Quinn, pausing for a moment to try to swallow the lump that was forming in her throat. Stupid hormones." And- And I'm trying really hard not to bother about what other people think of my life. Which is why I didn't even think of what not going with you might look like to you. I just thought that since it's the only time quality time you get with Sam during the week, it might be better not to intrude. Honest."_

_"I believe you," said Rachel after a moment." And I don't have words to express how amazed I am at the level of maturity you are showing right now, Quinn... It seems that I summarized the situation prematurely, and behaved rashly. Please, don't feel pressured from my side to disclose or hide any aspect of your life from our peers. I overlooked how difficult your position already is, and also how the crowd at our school behaves, and I apologize for that."_

_"Don't. Letting someone live with you and then having them ignore the fact that you're doing them a favor must be irritating. But just so you know, I'm not ignoring it. Santana and Britt already know, which basically means the entire school is going to find out by tomorrow, and... I think I'm actually okay with that. I mean, they're already tripping us up and tossing slushies at us, right?... So... I guess you can get back to whatever you were doing. Night, Rachel."_

_"Um.. Actually, I was about to sit and finish some homework. If yours is still pending, maybe we could..."_

_"Sure. Hold on a sec, I'll go and get it."_

_While the two girls sat and typed out their essays, Jacob typed out the new news post for his blog site, which worked to fuel his perverted fantasies of the two girls, but didn't really have much impact otherwise. __. It seemed that Quinn was already too scandalous for that news to have much effect. Finn, of course, kept on sulking and shooting both girls sullen looks before Mr. Schue finally intervened and forced him to apologize to them. It didn't do much for his mood, but at least he stopped staring at them and tried hooking up with a few Cheerios to sooth his wounded pride. _

___Rachel would think of Finn occasionally, and had even thought of approaching him before his gaze had scared her off, but she knew that even though he was sort of behaving, she'd still have to make a choice between his and Quinn. And she had done that already, so there wasn't much point trying to initiate a friendship with Finn immediately. But sadly, she wasn't getting enough time for a good, depressing song vent. _

* * *

Aside from that little misunderstanding, there wasn't much trouble. The occasional tantrum before breakfast, one after school, and maybe a flare-up before dinner. Life was going like clockwork, really, and Rachel decided that when Noah requested an audience with her fathers, there was no plausible reason to turn him down.

And that is how the Berry family was introduced to the... politer side of Puck. He'd turned up early in the morning - on Rachel's suggestion, since Quinn seemed to like sleeping in when possible - in a suit, complete with a bow-tie. Joseph's first thought on opening the door had been that the boy looked like an over-sized penguin, but overall, the effort was appreciated.

Sam gave Puck a once over after they were all seated, trying to recollect everything he knew about this boy. They frequently met his mother, owing to the tight-knit Jewish community, at least amongst the adults, and so his family background wasn't a mystery to them. But Puck himself.. Well, his mother had talked about how his heart was in the right place, and all the things parents were prone to talking about to try to show their children in a better light. Plus, there were plenty of incidents in which he'd slushied Rachel along with his friends.

But he had been fairly nice to her since they'd dated shortly - which in itself was a fact that bothered Sam no end, because she was still tiny! - and Rachel had told them that his efforts to help Quinn and the baby were sincere, something you wouldn't expect from a teenage boy with a rather... promiscuous nature. It was enough to give him a fair chance at.. whatever he was here for.

"So.. you wanted to see us?" said Sam, trying to keep his gaze as non-hostile as possible.

"Um.. yeah. I- I mean, yes. I get that you guys are already doing like, a lot for Quinn even when you don't have to and stuff, and that's great..." Puck paused for a moment to regain his composure and make sure he didn't go into a rant, because it sure as hell wouldn't be as pretty as Berry's. "It's just.. I want to help Quinn too, but it's a little difficult."

"In what way?"

"See, I thought she'd be living with us, but 'cause she's not, I want to help out with the bills and stuff."

"Noah, that isn't really necessary. I appreciate the sentiment, but I think we can handle her bills without much trouble."

"I know that. But whatever Quinn says, that kid's still my responsibility. And I want to help."

"Honestly, I respect your determination. Most boys your age would have been very glad to be rid of the burden.. But, I still say that it's not required. We can provide whatever Quinn needs, and in any case, how would you contribute?"

"That's kinda why I'm here, actually. My.. track record isn't that great, and not a lot of people are willing to hire me. I know that you have your own law firm, and you," he said, looking at Joseph who was sitting silently near Rachel, "work with all those counselors and stuff. If you guys could maybe..."

"Give you a job?" asked Sam. "Noah, I can't think of anything in either of our workplaces that you'd be able to do."

"But Dad, it's not as if every job requires qualifications, correct," said Rachel, speaking up when she realized that this conversation was obviously not going as Noah had planned and that he probably didn't know how to get it back on track. "I'm sure you could assign Noah some kind of clerical job. I seem to recall that you have dozens of files coming in and out of your office that would probably benefit from good sorting. Or even some type of-"

"Okay, Ray. I get what you're saying. Well," he said, taking in the hopeful look on Puck's face,"I suppose you can drop in today and I'll what I can do. But I can't promise any set job or pay, alright?"

"Of course. Um... thanks a lot for the chance, Mr. Berry. Really. I'll like, totally nail it," he said, getting up along with the rest of them. "So, anyway, I'd better go now, got some pools to clean. But Rach, you're so, totally slushie free from now on. Take it as a little something from the Puckasaurus for helping his baby mama."

With that, he practically bounded out of the door, loosening that irritating tie and not noticing Quinn, who was standing on the stairs near the door, having been woken up by the early morning house call. She'd come down and, while not intending to eavesdrop, had heard the entire thing from her position, which had left her with the growing desire to punch someone - preferably Puck and then Rachel.

Waiting till Puck was safely out of the house, she headed up to her room and gently shut the door behind her. Taking a deep breath, she tried to expel the conversation from her mind rather unsuccessfully and ended up just getting more and more annoyed. Hadn't she used every way possible, aside from carving it on his skull, to tell Puck that she was not interested in his help? And she'd thought he'd listened to her... It was frustrating beyond words to think that the one damn thing that she'd thought had gone according to her wishes, really hadn't.

For Quinn, the past few months had felt as if she was living someone else's life. Not to say that she wasn't responsible for all the wrong decisions she'd taken, but for her, it had begun to feel as if nothing in her life was under her control any more. There were always huge chunks of her life that were controlled by her father, but it had turned into far more than that - the unwanted, unexpected pregnancy, Finn's growing attraction to Rachel that she could not manage to curb, her loss of popularity and being kicked off the Cheerios. It was all adding up to a helpless feeling of being an outsider in her own life, and this just highlighted that for her.

She'd always been manipulated by the people around her, been forced to take decisions and act in ways that she secretly never agreed with. Her own family would blatantly twist her, rejecting her suggestions and gently prodding her till it became obvious that the path they chose for her would be the one she had to take, whether she liked it or not. Even after the pregnancy, the choices she made - pushing Finn forward as the father, not aborting the child and trying to keep her status intact - were more due to peer pressure than anything else. Who in their right mind would think that Finn Hudson was genuinely a suitable father?

It was only when Rachel leaked her dirty little secret to Finn that she finally felt the suffocating pressure to conform lift. When it was all out there, the good and the bad, worrying about what people thought of her was the last dam thing on her mind. It seemed to her that it was the last chance she was getting to take control of her life, to decide who she was again. And the time she'd spent with the Berrys - the time that had helped reinforce her feeling of confidence - had just turned out to be a farce. Puck had brought her into this house, even after she'd decided that she would separate her life from his. Rachel Berry had not asked Quinn to live with her because she wanted to, or because she felt some sort of obligation to. No, that wasn't it at all.

"I knew it. I just knew that there had to be some sort of catch to it... Why would Berry help me?.. In fact, why would anyone help me for no reason? I'm the freak of the week in Lima," she though, managing to convince herself that Rachel had only helped her so enthusiastically because Pcuk had asked her to, and you did not refuse Puck till you had a painful death wish.

Quinn had always had a hard time trusting people, mainly because her mother would systematically dissect any person she became friends with, pointing out their flaws and selfishness and possible reasons for approaching Quinn. It came to the point where Quinn became convinced of the fact that no one ever befriended her until they wanted something from the perfect little princess. She was sure that no one would bother to know her well enough to like her just because, and that people you could count on to have your back even when it held no incentive for them did not exist.

And then Rachel, who was always so... chirpy even when she repeatedly made it clear that she wanted to crush the tiny brunette, made her think that maybe someone like that did exist. People could be good and kind and generous without wanting something in return. But the little chat that she'd heard changed her mind again. It was far easier to believe that Rachel did in fact hate her - with plenty of reason to do so - and this whole pretense of caring about her was to gain Noah's favor and in turn his protection at school. Because with people like Quinn, people who could manipulate and lie for their own gain, the problem was that they thought the rest of the world was like them too.

She packed her things into the duffle bags that had been tucked away into a cupboard, which took all of about ten minutes, without giving any thought to where she'd go or what she'd do. All she knew was that she had to get away from this place right now. Damn Puck, and damn Rachel for thinking that she was a moron. Why could no one respect her wishes?

Quinn picked up the bag and crept out of the house, careful to avoid making the door creek or the locks make any sound when they clicked back into place. A good hour or so later, when Rachel finally went up to Quinn's room to wake her up, she found a note on the unmade bed.

"Hope you enjoy your slushie free existence. Fuck you, Berry."

And that, my friends, is when the shit hit the little gold stars on the ceiling.

* * *

Review if you want the stinky shit scraped off Rachel's house!


	7. Chapter 7

**Title:** My Private Nation

**Pairing: **Quinn/Rachel

**Rating: **PG-13

**Spoilers: **Takes place after EP13 'Sectionals'.Contains major part of storyline up until said episode.

**Timeline:** One week later, which is a Saturday.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Glee, the songs, or even the characters.

**Author's Note: **Thanks to Rainbombz for the betaing.

* * *

"Dad, Daddy. Get up here. NOW," screamed Rachel, her hand trembling as she took in the contents of the note. She could barely figure out what it meant; her mind only registered the fact that Quinn was gone, along with her stuff, and it seemed to have something to do with her.

Sam bounded up the stairs, taking them three at a time, closely followed by Joseph. They hadn't heard Rachel speak in that tone of voice since she was seven, and had seen a lizard crawling near her bed.

"What's wrong, baby?" asked Sam, disturbed at the look in Rachel's eyes. She simply held out the note, letting him take it from her as she looked around the room again, confirming that Quinn was indeed gone. Sam glanced at it, a worried frown crossing his face as he handed it to Joseph. The contents of the note made as little sense to him as they did to Rachel, and he wondered what could have happened between last night and this morning to prompt the blonde to leave such an odd message and run away.

"Um.. d'you have any idea what this means, Ray?" he asked Rachel.

"I-I think she heard us talking to Noah, Daddy. That's the only slushie reference I can come up with."

"And then she left?" asked Joseph disbelievingly. He couldn't understand what about that particular chat would make Quinn leave so abruptly.

Unfortunately, none of them seemed to have an answer to that question. They stood in silence for a few moments, each of them going through different things in their heads, till Rachel - being an almost-empath - finally figured it out. She heaved herself into the settee, sighing dramatically and dropping her head into her hands. Sam almost, almost laughed at her antics before he caught himself.

"Sweetheart, care to explain the sudden feeling of despair that's emanating from you?"

"She is an idiot. A complete and utter moron.. A bigger dope than Finn, if that's even physically possible... I cannot believe that she would think- The sheer absurdity of it. Lord, why do you deprive some people of basic logical reasoning?" said Rachel, looking up at the ceiling questioningly before continuing her monologue, half out loud, and half in her head. Her parents watched on, confused as hell but unwillingly to interrupt, till she finally realized she probably looked like a deranged lunatic. Taking a deep breath, Rachel looked up at her dads.

"After sufficient deliberation, I have come to the conclusion that Quinn managed to eavesdrop on our conversation with Noah, and being the absolute genius that she is, convinced herself that we are only extending our home to her as a favor to Noah, most probably because I'm too terrified of him. Hence the slushie reference. I believe she took Noah's words far too literally-"

"And thought that it was some sort of an exchange offer, right?" concluded Joseph.

"Correct. As Noah explained, Quinn has very firmly refused any aid coming from him and for her, it must have seemed as if this entire arrangement was all his doing."

"Um.. but wasn't it?"

"... Well, perhaps he initiated it," conceded Rachel, but that doesn't necessarily lead one to the conclusion that I have given her entry into my home, my life purely because Noah wanted me to. If I was that uncomfortable with Quinn, or I felt she was in some way destroying our peace and harmony, she would not be living here. But instead of thinking of that, Quinn utilized all of her considerable mental faculties into writing that sorry excuse for a note and absconded. Imbecile."

"Right... Well, we need to find her then," said Sam, well aware of the fact that both his husband and daughter would throw hissy fits unless otherwise occupied. "Rachel, call Noah. It's not likely she's gone to him, but worth a try. And if she's not there, get him out and searching wherever he thinks she might go. Get in touch with Quinn's other friends as well and if none of them have any idea where she is, we'll start looking for her."

While Sam was firing out instructions, Joseph was standing quietly in a corner, pondering over the situation. He'd been the one who had convinced Quinn to stay, taking his time with her to convince both her and himself that it was the right decision. But this episode was making him have misgivings about it. He could manage to overlook some of the things she'd done to Rachel, because she wasn't really the only culprit and also happened to be a teenage kid who needed popularity like she needed air, but at this moment, he couldn't help but wonder if the girl was more trouble than she was worth.

Diva episodes and tantrums he was no stranger to, having brought up Rachel Berry, but this was a little too much in his opinion. What was that girl thinking, exactly, causing so much distress to people who had gone out of their way to assist her?

"Why the long face?" asked Sam, having noticed the look on his husband's face.

"I'm not too sure about all of this any more, to be honest. I mean, we'll go and find Quinn, of course. It's our responsibility to ensure that she's unharmed, but beyond that, I don't know. Do you really think keeping her with us any longer is the best thing for all of us?"

"Jo, I get where you're coming from, I really do. But tell me something - if not here, then where? I know that I can't let that girl go live in a shelter, where she might wander off like this again and no one would be all that keen on getting her back. And it's not like her own family is all that bothered.'

"That's something I don't mind helping her figure out. Come on, Sam. It's not like I'm going to stop her from entering the house any more. But... it's a headache, you know? Did you see the look on Rachel's face when she called us up here? I don't know why it is, but that girl holds a lot of influence over our daughter, and their close proximity might actually be bad for Rachel. And while I have no issues helping her financially, getting her in touch with the right people and stuff, I will not allow her to hurt Rachel."

"And you think I will? I can see that Rachel cares about Quinn, but then I can also see that it was reciprocated. Quinn wasn't... she didn't behave like the girl we used to think she was and in the time she's spent here... I've grown fond of her, Jo. I don't think I'm gonna be able to hand over her care to someone else, anyone else, and not sit up at night wondering how she is and whether she's really alright. And really, I don't think you will either."

"If that's what it takes to keep Rachel happy, then that's what I'll do, all fondness aside."

"Jo," said Sam, trying a different approach ",do you remember how Shelby used to be when she was pregnant with Rachel? That girl single handedly managed to break half the stuff in our house and turn you into a cowering mess. She'd threaten to leave at the drop of a hat, and we'd have to grovel for hours to make her stay. But before that, she was just a regular girl. Have you considered that it's the pregnancy hormones that are making Quinn blow up over such a small thing?"

"That's not-"

"Yes it is... Babe, I know you want to protect Rachel, but do you think, given the attachment she seems to have developed towards Quinn and her baby, that it'd be the best thing for Ray if Quinn went to live somewhere else? Or that she'd even agree?"

"Definitely not," said Rachel from the door, glaring at Joseph, who glared right back. "Dad, I sincerely appreciate your concern for me, but this is not an appropriate time. Our first priority is getting Quinn back to this house safe and sound and keeping her in this house, because she has been exceptionally wonderful to all three of us since she began living here. Your behavior is unwarranted and quite frankly, based solely on the contents of a certain private diary which wasn't for your eyes in the first place."

"Rachel," said Sam firmly, indicating that her tone of voice was getting a little too unacceptable.

"I apologize, Daddy. But we really should end this discussion and get on the road, because no one I've called so far seems to have any idea of Quinn's whereabouts. I'm calling Noah now and asking him, but since it seems highly unlikely that she'll be with him, I suggest you come down now."

And with that, Rachel lead her dads into the car, dialing Puck's number as she walked. This was one conversation she was not looking forward to, and when he picked up, she sent a quick prayer to God to preserve her hearing abilities.

"Hey Berry," said Puck. "Missing me already?"

"You wish. Noah, there's a bit of a problem... Quinn's missing," said Rachel, choosing to get directly to the point.

"Funny, Rachel. Real funny. You want me to come over, just say so, will you? No need to get everyone all excited."

"Noah Puckerman, how dare you insinuate that I would lie about something like that? Quinn has run away and I need you to get on the road and start looking for her immediately."

"She's what?" asked Puck, immediately abandoning his slouching position to shoot up on his feet. "How the hell did you let her run away, dweeb?... If anything happens to my kid, I'll so fucking _kill_ you, Berry."

"Is the baby _all_ you care about? Because trust me_ Puck_, if there is so much as a single scratch on Quinn, I'll murder _you_ in the most painful way possible. If she hadn't overheard you and your stupid slushie joke, none of this would be happening. Now stop this nonsense, and start looking."

Rachel slammed her phone shut, and got into the car. Mission Impossible Commencing.

By mid-morning, half the Glee club were out on the streets along with Rachel and Puck. They had each been assigned different areas by Rachel, and for once were grateful to her organization skills as they kept scouring. When there was no sign of Quinn by evening, and the sun was beginning to set, Rachel decided, in a fit of desperation, to pay a visit to Quinn's house. It was a long shot, but at that moment, they were willing to try anything and the resulting conversation could not be called present.

* * *

_She walked up to the door and knocked nervously, once again regretting her decision to ask her dads to stay in the car. At that time, she'd thought it would be better if Quinn's conservative family didn't see them, but her nerves were scolding her now. The door was opened eventually by a woman who Rachel guessed was Quinn's mother based purely on physical resemblance._

_The lady's features were strikingly similar to Quinn's, but her attitude, not so much. Whereas Quinn's former haughtiness had softened, and her sadism replaced by something much more wholesome, the woman standing in front of her had a jaded, bitter look in her eyes, the kind that immediately made you feel uncomfortable. Rachel - being the daughter of the only gay couple in this relatively orthodox town - sensed the coldness at once, and even though her guards went straight up, she couldn't help but noting the fact that the woman in front of her also looked... nervous, or maybe scared. She seemed to be as wary of the people inside her house as she was of those outside. _

_"Mrs. Fabray?"_

_"Yes, that's me."_

_"I'm Rachel Berry, a friend of Quinn's from school, and I-" Rachel's sentence was cut off by a gasp from Mrs. Fabray, who looked over her shoulder once before shooting Rachel an almost desperate look before shutting the door in her face._

_"We do not wish to allow freaks such as yourself entry into our home," said Mrs. Fabray from behind the door, the clarity of her voice indicating that she was practically shouting. "What you and the men you live with preach is sinful, and I refuse to allow such disgusting people around me or my family. Please remove yourself from my property immediately."_

_Rachel hastily ran down the porch and into her car, hoping very hard that Quinn hadn't come back to this place. In all the time she'd been with them, Quinn had never seemed to harbor any homophobic feelings towards her family, and Rachel wondered how that was possible. While she was convinced that Mrs. Fabray's words were hollow and meant more for show than anything, it also meant that there was someone in that house, probably Quinn's father, for whom the show had to be put on. And that itself made her worry for any other person having to stay with him. Making a mental note to ask Brittany to come here and ask again, she urged her dad to get the hell off that street as fast as possible. _

* * *

While numerous people were tearing their hair out searching for Quinn and getting badgered by Rachel, the girl herself was stretched out on a grassy turf high up on a hill in Schoonover Park. A bead of sweat ran down her forehead, and as the sun set, she started hearing the familiar chirping sounds of insects in the grass that transported her back to all the times she'd come to this exact same spot when she'd been younger.

She'd discovered this spot by accident, and since most people didn't venture this deep into the park, it was the perfect place for her to get away from everyone else. When she was still new to the bitching and politics in school and the mind games her father liked to play with them, it'd all become too difficult to handle, and this would be where she'd come to just be with herself. No people, no talking and no expectations of her would help her calm down and clear her head so that she could go back and continue the charade of being the perfect daughter without slipping up.

But as she'd gotten older, she'd all but forgotten about this place. The masks she wore became so easy to slip on that the facades became a real part of her. There was no need to connect with herself anymore, because there wasn't anyone left to connect with - she had become the person she pretended to be. And yet, here she was again because... because of Rachel, really.

Puck, she never expected anything from, and Sam and Joseph were... great guys who she was just getting to know. This situation wasn't one that they were really very involved in, and after all they'd been trying to help her with, she couldn't in any way justify being disappointed in them. But with Rachel, it was different. Quinn had never in her wildest dreams expected to ever trust Rachel, but it was kind of difficult not to. They shared the same living space, went to the same school and rather than increase the rift between them, all that time together had served to bring them closer in a way. Quinn didn't know whether she'd say Rachel was a friend or not, but definitely the only person she'd ever felt comfortable being herself around. Rachel made her feel relaxed in a way that was difficult to articulate, and that's why Rachel taking part in Puck's scheme bothered her more than anything else.

Still, thinking about the same thing again and again wouldn't serve any purpose. Quinn hauled herself up and started walking down the hill, thinking of a list of possible places she could crash for the night. It seemed like the shelters she'd completely pushed out of her mind after she'd started living with the Berrys were going to be the only option available to her.

* * *

Rachel was at the intersection of Jefferson and York St. when she got a message from Kurt explaining that they'd found the runaway.

"Oh, thank God. Daddy, turn into that street, please. They've found Quinn."

In just a few moments, the Berry's found themselves parked next to Kurt's SUV and Rachel promptly tried to jump out of the car while it was still moving. She saw Quinn standing between Kurt and Puck, the blonde's left hand covered in a series of small scratches.

"What happened to you?" asked Rachel, holding Quinn's arm up for inspection. But before she could really see if the cuts were anything to worry about, Quinn pulled her hand back. The blonde stood there cradling her arm and looking down at her feet. It was one thing to run away impulsively, and quite another to be found and told there were people worried sick about you. Quinn wasn't quite as confident of her actions as she had been in the morning, and beginning to feel more that a little silly, but that didn't mean she was going to show it.

"What's it to you, Berry?"

"Quinn.. please, we'll discuss this in a moment. Let me inspect your hand first," said Rachel.

"I can take care of myself, thanks."

"Quinn," said Sam, interrupting the two," Rachel's right. Come with us, and we'll talk about whatever you want after your hand's been patched up."

Quinn couldn't get herself to say no to Sam, which was how she found herself in the back seat of his car with Rachel who held a soft cloth to her hand, trying to wipe away the dried blood to whatever extent possible.

"How on earth did you manage to scrape yourself so hard?" asked Joseph from the front.

"I... bumped into a car, and there were stones all over the sidewalk."

"You bumped into a car?" interrupted Rachel.

"Yeah."

"Did you manage to get the license number? The number of irresponsible -"

"Kurt's car, Berry."

"Kurt's car? But then why was he just standing there? Couldn't he have taken you to the hospital with him?"

"Yeah, then you would have been spared the trouble, right?"

"Quinn, seriously."

"He didn't want to stain his seats."

"He didn't want what? That insensitive, immature... stupid, stupid boy," said Rachel, thinking of anything she could possibly do to made Kurt's life miserable, but then the look on Puck's face when she'd first gotten there came back to Rachel. She had a feeling that Puck would be doing more than enough to make Kurt regret not putting his baby mama on a pedestal. The boy would be lucky if he escaped with ten slushies an hour.

"Rachel," said Sam "d'you think we need to go to the hospital?"

"No, Daddy. They don't seem to be at all deep. I think our first aid kit will suffice."

"Wait, we're going to your house?"

"Well, that is generally where people keep their first aid kits, so yes, we are," said Rachel, choosing to ignore the way Quinn's face rapidly took on a faint reddish tinge.

"But-"

"Later, Quinn... Believe me, discussing this incident in great detail is very high up on my list of priorities, but not as high as disinfecting your wounds. So please, a little patience would be very much appreciated."

Something in the tone of Rachel's voice made Quinn feel that it'd be unwise to press the issue, and the rest of the ride passed in silence. The house wasn't really all that far anyway, and it wasn't long before Quinn was perched on the edge of Rachel's bathtub, with the brunette kneeling next to her, bandages, cotton and antiseptic wipes in hand. She sat silently as the brunette gently wiped the crusted blood off the scratches, applying the slightest amount of pressure possible.

Rachel had a surprising amount of experience with first-aid, because her dads weren't the least bit proficient in that department. They'd actually sat down with a guide book one day when Rachel had sustained a paper cut and by the time they were done with it, she'd managed to take care of it herself. Not that paper cuts needed much taking care of, really, but still. Point was, she was the resident patcher if her dads were one hundred percent sure that an injury wasn't serious enough for qualified medical personnel.

She winced slightly when she saw the full extent of the damage to Quinn's arm. Though not deep, the cuts were long and numerous, with a entire patch of skin looking terribly sore; these were going to sting rather badly. Efficiently swabbing the blonde's arm with the disinfectant, Rachel proceeded to apply a soothing skin cream and forgo the bandages, thinking that it'd be better if they just dried out fast. When she was done, she sat back on the floor of the bathroom and put everything back into the box before looking up at Quinn.

"So... would you like to talk now?"

"Um... In your bathroom?"

"Well," said Rachel, getting up and extending her hand to Quinn," I suppose the bedroom would be more comfortable."

Quinn accepted the proffered hand and heaved herself up, the slight dizziness making her realize that she hadn't eaten anything but a chocolate bar all day. Once in Rachel's room, she sunk into the settee and waited till Rachel had made herself comfortable on the bed.

"Quinn... what prompted you to pull a stunt like that?" asked Rachel after the silence had stretched on for a few seconds.

"I... I overheard you guys talking to Puck."

"Hmm..."

"And it just... made me so angry!" said Quinn, a small amount of irritation flashing in her eyes. "I had told him to leave me and the bab- to leave me alone. Again and again till I thought he'd finally gotten it through his thick head that I was not interested in his help or his interference or whatever."

"Why not, though? I would have thought you'be be grateful for someone who was willing to look after you so well."

"Yeah, but I'm not. I don't want him to look after me... You don't get it, okay? Puck turns into this weird, intense guy when it comes to this baby. I'd thought it might work, that we could help each other till the baby came and I gave... gave it up for adoption. But I swear Rachel, I caught him looking at me once, and that's not what he wants. I could see it in his eyes - he has some thing in his head about raising this baby together, because he has something to prove to the world. I-It.. God, y'know, it starts with small stuff, like giving me money and helping me babysit, but then it's living with him, letting him take on all the responsibility and next thing you know..."

"You'll be re-thinking the adoption. This is why you were so abrupt with him, wasn't it? You are scared that letting Noah shoulder the responsibility will also give him a say in this child's future, and that's what you don't want."

"And you finally get it," said Quinn sarcastically.

"I- I apologize for going against your wishes, Quinn. I wasn't aware of Noah's intentions, and I honestly believed that it was your pride that was getting in the way of your judgement."

"Well, you know that's not it now, don't you?"

"Yes, I do... And I think there's something you should know to, before you make another ill-informed decision. Noah did approach me for help regarding your housing situation, and so you could, if you so wished, hold him responsible for bringing you into my home. But I don't think that's fair, because while Noah requested me to offer to share my house with you, and he did inform me that you had no idea about it, the final decision wasn't ever his. He did not hold a gun to my head and force me to say yes to this arrangement."

"Which makes no sense," interrupted Quinn. "I tortured you at every opportunity I got. Made your life a living hell, most people would say. So why would you just let me come and live with you without any incentive?"

"The incentive, believe it or not, was helping out one of my peers in a situation that I couldn't even imagine myself in. When someone is genuinely in need of help, Quinn, you don't sit around and wonder if they've been nice to you or not... I'd thought of asking you sooner, actually, once the implications of telling Finn had really sunk in. But I couldn't muster up the courage required. Even Noah had to force me to find you, because apparently I was his last resort."

"Well, duh. Everyone expected you to be cracking open bottles of champagne."

"It's turned out pretty well so far, though, hasn't it?" asked Rachel with a hopeful smile.

"I suppose so, yeah. But-"

"No more buts, please. It's getting late, Quinn, and this back-and-forth is tiring. The last thing I can say is that I enjoy having you around. My fathers, wonderful though they may be, are men... and adults. You, quite obviously, are neither and so rather a nice addition to our house... I've... I've never really had a friend before you, Quinn. So even if you're not sure about staying for you, I'd appreciated it if you gave it another chance for me."

Quinn looked up at Rachel, a disbelieving expression crossing her face. Not at the no friends part, because who didn't know that? No, it was the part where Rachel had said she considered Quinn to be a friend that had the blonde astounded. While she would definitely classify Rachel as more than an acquaintance now, friendship was something she hadn't considered. It seemed to be an absurd idea, really, the two of them becoming friends.

But as Quinn thought about it, she realized that there wasn't any other word to describe their relationship as it stood now. Circumstances may have pushed them together, but it was more than that. The blonde knew that she'd never felt more at ease in another person's company than she had in Rachel's. There was never any need for her to pretend around the brunette, who could see through her acts without the slightest difficulty anyway, and what was that but friendship? The irony of it really didn't escape Quinn.

"Quinn, are you alright?" asked Rachel, moving towards the blonde.

"Yeah, I'm fine... But um... what about your dads? Aren't they mad at me?"

"I'll take that question to mean that you're staying."

"I... God, I do not want do go out in front of them," whined Quinn ,"I think I'll die of embarrassment."

"As you should. What you did was reckless and juvenile. But... I'm sure they'll do nothing beyond teasing you every single day. My fathers are very generous with second chances. Or even third and fourth and fifth, if the situation arises."

"That's not the point! Looking them in the face is going to be... difficult now."

"Well, think of it as retribution and suck it up, Quinn. Because I am not giving you the option of running away again... In fact, come with me right now and we can get the awkward moment out of the way for good."

"What awkward moment?" Both girls looked up to see Sam standing against the door-frame, an amused look on his face. "Oh, like when we found a post-it note telling us you'd run off before breakfast?"

Quinn groaned and buried her face in her hands as Rachel just watched the interaction from the sidelines. If it had been Joseph standing there, Quinn might have been more worried, but Sam always made her feel a little more comfortable and she could take his remark in the teasing way he'd meant it.

"Or maybe when we were randomly stopping blonde girls on the street and the police officer thought I was a pedophile. Yeah, maybe that."

"Sam!... I'm sorry, okay? I'm really, really sorry for putting all of you through all this trouble for... no reason whatsoever. I wasn't thinking clearly, and- and even if I had been, that was a completely inappropriate thing to do considering all that..." Quinn trailed off as she caught Sam trying to hold back his laughter. "Why is this funny?"

"Trust me, Quinn, there's a reason the rants are best left to Rachel. I accept your apology, or whatever I could make of it anyway. But," said Sam, his voice turning serious,"Joseph has a condition."

"What is it?"

"He asked me to inform you that as punishment for all the trouble you put everyone through... You'll be suffering the horrors of take-out for a week. Starting today."

"Dad!"

* * *

Reviews are a few of my favorite things. Probably somewhere between the snowflakes and apple strudels.


	8. Chapter 8

**Title:** My Private Nation

**Pairing: **Quinn/Rachel

**Rating: **PG-13

**Spoilers: **Takes place after EP13 'Sectionals'.Contains major part of storyline up until said episode.

**Timeline:** Same day.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Glee, the songs, or even the characters.

**Author's Note**: Right, this chapter was supposed to be a 500 word interlude, but it took on a life of it's own. I've explained Quinn's backstory to some extent, and maybe we'll go into it some more in the future.

* * *

Judy Fabray leaned against her front door, the veins in her hand still protruding from the exertion of gripping the doorknob like her life depended on it. Deep frown lines made an appearance on her face as she tried to suppress the urge to open the door again and stop the girl outside from running away. She knew exactly who Rachel Berry was, and had also been made aware of the fact that she was the person her daughter was living with.

Even though the thought of Quinn living with those two gay men made her sightly uneasy, she was still glad that Quinn had somewhere safe to stay and wanted to ask Rachel why she'd come to their house. But Russell was at home and he'd want to know who'd come to the door - talking to someone from the Berry household wouldn't bode well for her. It wasn't as if he hit her anymore - he'd trained himself out of that habit after Grace had walked into one of their confrontations and started asking uncomfortable questions - but he was still a very intimidating man. He'd also been very edgy of late, after word of Quinn's situation had made rounds and the people at the country club had begun to look at them with a knowing smirk on their faces.

She went inside, where he was waiting in the dining room with an unamused expression on his face.

"I saw that girl from the window," he said softly, "What did she want?"

"Oh, I have no idea. Probably some silly collection scheme," said Judy, moving towards their liquor cabinet. "I sent her away immediately, of course. No need for you to worry about it, dear."

"No need to worry? What do you mean by 'no need to worry', eh?" he asked in an agitated tone, moving towards her and smelling the alcohol lacing her breath.

"Russell, honey, please don't work yourself up. You know the doctor said stress is bad for your blood pressure."

"Don't tell me what he said. Doctors are all morons, anyway," said Russell, starting to pace around the room."First, all those people at the club, walking around like they're better than us now just- just because... And now that girl. You know, a few weeks ago, people like her wouldn't even have the guts to glance at our house. And now, it's like we're- like they can ring our bell and chit-chat with us."

"Oh, I know, Russell. It's disgraceful, really, thinking that we'd entertain them."

Russell glanced towards Judy and shrugged, calming down a little at her apparent understanding of his outrage and, grabbing his car keys, strode off without bothering to inform Judy of where he was going and when he'd be back.

Judy let out the breath she'd been holding ever since Russell had gotten up from his chair and grabbed a glass, pouring herself a drink from the bottle closest to her hand. She watched the clear liquid swirling around in the glass for a moment before downing it in one go, the satisfying sting of the drink calming her down. Judy Fabray was an alcoholic who'd started out hating the stuff. One of her foremost desires had been to throw every bottle out of the stuff out of the window - having seen the effects of it on so many members of both her and her husbands family - but she never did, owing to the fact that Russell prided himself on his collection of gin, scotch and whiskey. Only the finest blends from all over the world found their way into his house, and she used her husband's pride to her advantage.

The alcohol served it's purpose well - she couldn't ever recall Russell's sharp comments and criticisms the next morning - but it also made her less attached to the reality of her life and that of her children. It became so easy for Judy to slide into her own version of reality, ignoring the elements that disturbed it and embracing those that didn't. It had affected her children in an adverse way, something she'd come to understand when Russell had thrown Quinn out. There had been all the usual emotions in the girl's eyes - hurt, fear and desperation - but there was a lack of surprise. On the contrary, Quinn had looked almost satisfied. She'd accepted, much before Judy, what her father would do when her secret came out and she'd been proven right. Judy had understood in those few uncomfortable minutes that all her masks were too transparent for her own children, that she was partially responsible for their compulsive need to live up to the image of a perfect family she tried to project even though they saw the flaws in it far too clearly and for Quinn's utter lack of trust in her own parents.

Judy chose to push that out of her mind too, however hard it may have been. Russell... well, she didn't know about love, but he had come to care for her, and he most certainly loved his children. The problem was that there were certain principles so deeply ingrained in him that they took precedent over every other thought and emotion. One of those was the burning need to uphold the reputation of his family no matter what the cost. Russell needed to show everyone that he had the perfect wife, had raised the perfect children and they needed to help him do so. His entire family had learnt their lesson well, each in their own way.

* * *

_Judy had been married only a few short weeks, and she was still adjusting to her new house and husband. They hadn't had a very long courtship period - Russell had been introduced to her by her parents, and it was clear from the outset what was expected of both of them. A date or two, in which they'd barely gotten to know each other, and before you knew it, they were married. Even then, Judy wasn't having much of a problem in her new house, because it was pretty much like the place she'd grown up in. She'd always been known as Mr. Davidson's daughter, and now she was Russell's wife or, to the people at the golf club, Richard Fabray's daughter-in-law. _

_The soft knock at the front door alerted her of her husband's presence, and she quickly wiped her hands and after checking her appearance in the mirror, went forward to greet him. To her surprise, there were five other men with him, all busy shrugging off their coats. Russell looked at her expectantly, and after ushering them in, she rushed forward to take his coat and give him a peck on the cheek. Russell returned the kiss before introducing her to his colleagues - turned out that they were friends of his from his workplace. After showing them into the living room, he turned back to his wife. _

_"What's for dinner? Long day, and we're all starved."_

_"B-but you didn't tell me anything. There's not enough food for everyone." She glanced over at them apologetically, not noticing the way Russell's face hardened for an instant._

_"That's not a problem, is it? I'm sure you can whip up something. My wife is the most wonderful cook," he said, smiling at his friends._

_"But-" Judy's words got caught in her throat at Russell's brief glare. "Of course I can," she said, trying to think of a solution,"Why don't all of you take some drinks till then?"_

_"Great idea, sweetheart. Get all of us a gin and tonic, will you?"_

_"Of course. Be with you in a moment."_

_The next hour went smoothly for Russell, while his wife flew around the kitchen, arranging and preparing a presentable meal for her guests. She breathed a sigh of relief when they finally left three hours later, enthusiastically promising to come again. A few minutes after the front door shut behind them, Russell came up to her, and to her surprise, looked highly displeased._

_"What did you just do?" he asked._

_"What do you mean?"_

_"You know exactly what I mean. You embarrassed me."_

_"How? Your friends had a great time. They loved the dinner, too."_

_"Yeah, sure they did. After I had to beg you to get it for them."_

_"You didn't tell me to -"_

_"Don't you turn this around and put it on me. I'm a businessman, and I'm expected to entertain guests. And you're supposed to be the perfect hostess, not tell them we don't have food. You should have made up some excuse and stalled till you had something ready for them."_

_'I did. I'm sorry about before, but it's not like we-"_

_She was cut off as Russell suddenly advanced towards her, his hand flying out to strike her before he stopped himself. Curling his hand into a fist, he stepped away, taking a deep breath before speaking. _

_"Don't do it again. I can't - just don't."_

_After that day, there were numerous other incidents. Judy learnt that her husband would always offer her help, but that she was never to accept. She learnt that she and her entire house were to always be in pristine condition, no matter what the day or time. She learnt that she had no independent thoughts or beliefs, and that all her decisions were to be made keeping Russell's wishes in mind. Most importantly, she learnt that her husband was always right, and alway the final authority. Argument was not welcome. The oppression which began from that day continued over the years, and was responsible for the person she became. Since she had no free will of her own, she resented those who did. Her outlook on life and people became distorted and bitter, even as she continued the charade that was her existence._

* * *

_When Grace was born, Judy was overjoyed. For a few years, she had someone to lose herself in willingly, someone who was dependent on her, someone who loved her without any conditions attached. But as Grace grew older, especially after Quinn was born, she became much more attached to her father. Unlike Judy, Grace seemed to instinctively know the type of behavior her father expected from his little girl. She was one of the most well behaved children in the neighborhood, and Russell would glow with pride at any mention of his elder child's name. To Judy's dismay, Grace's nature was also turning out to be like that of her father. She developed a rigid attitude towards social behavior, and was quick to point out any mistakes her mother made to Russell._

_Although Judy was disappointed in the way Grace was turning out, she never let it show, nor was she able to correct her when her father was encouraging her behavior. On Grace's tenth birthday, they had thrown an extravagant fairytale theme party for her, where she had been the princess. On the exterior, the party went wonderfully. All the children had a great time, and had gone away with a smile on their faces. When everyone had left and Judy began to clear up the mess, Grace sat in one corner and began to cry softly. When her father came to her, alarmed at her distress, she had told him, in pleading tones, to please ask her mother to never organize her party again._

_"Why, princess? Tell me what went wrong."_

_"It was all wrong, Daddy. You are always telling me how the Fabray's always throw the best parties, and I wanted mine to be like that."_

_"And why wasn't it, precious?"_

_"Gemina had a much bigger cake at her party, with all sorts of decorations. Mine's so plain. She's going to tell me about it tomorrow. I had told all my friends that my Daddy was going to throw me a much better party than anyone's had ever been, and now they'll make fun of me." Grace went on to meticulously list every fault with the party while Russell comforted her. He sent Judy deadly glares and the next day three gorgeous cakes were sent to every division of the fifth grade of William McKinley Primary, with special gift packs for Grace's class. On that day, and all days for the next week, Judy cried herself to sleep while her husband berated her utter incompetence._

* * *

_Quinn Fabray was born on 20th November, 1993. Her father was in his office at the time, battling one of the biggest stock market crashes in history. Perhaps the fact that her father's shadow was not the first to fall on her after she made her entry into this world made a difference, perhaps that was not the case, and she has inherited her maternal grandmother's nature; the nature of a fine, upright lady. But whatever the reason, it became apparent early on that Quinn wasn't the least bit like any other member of her immediate family. From the very beginning, Quinn was a joyful child. She was mischievous, vivacious, and didn't give a damn about being a prim and proper young lady. But even with her antics, she was spared Russell's wrath because she was a loving child. She doted on both her parents, and even Russell wasn't immune to her smiles and hugs. As a result, Quinn got away with more than anyone else._

_On her parent's anniversary, they had taken the entire family out to one of the newly open restaurant in town, one of the very few upscale joints in town at that time. Quinn and Grace had fussed over their dresses all evening, wanting to look the very best for the large gathering. All the relatives gushed over the two little angels, and talked about how lovely and polite the Fabray children were. The evening was going so well, but one little girl was bored. Quinn was sitting next to her mother, her hands in her lap, looking around at all the grown-ups and trying to follow their conversation. Being only seven, that wasn't very easy for her. She tried to get her sister's attention, but was told to be quiet and sit still, like 'good girls do'. Getting fed up, Quinn did what any other child would; she snuck under the table and pulled her aunt's dress, hard. The aunt in question was reasonably startled, and ended up shouting and dropping her dinner plate on to the floor, where it smashed into large pieces. Chaos reigned for the next few moments, and when Quinn was discovered, all the adults laughed, and gave her the attention she had been vying for. All except her father.  
_

_When they got home that day, Quinn was taken to the study and given a stern talking to. Russell made it very clear how disappointed he was in her, and how he expected much better from his children._

_"Daddy can't love you if you're not his little girl."_

_" But I am." Quinn had tears shining in her eyes._

_"Sweetheart, then you need to behave like it. My princess doesn't behave the way you did today."_

_"I'm sorry, Daddy. I'll be better."_

_"I hope so, Quinn, or I won't be able to call you a real Fabray. Now go to your room, it's bedtime."_

_Quinn went to bed, where her sister sneered at her from the other side. Grace was twelve, and not very happy with the fact that Quinn could get away with so many naughty things. Their father came in a moment later. He tucked Grace in with a kiss to her forehead, telling her what a good girl she'd been today, and how much he liked her. He came to Quinn, tucked her in as well, but simply patted her on the cheek and left. Later, as they were falling asleep, she could vaguely hear her father shouting, and something much softer, that sounded like her mom._

_That day, at a rather early age, Quinn was exposed to the burning guilt that came with disappointing her father. She worshiped Russell, and hated seeing him so sad because of her. He knew that, and used Quinn's affection as an easy way to control her. Any mistake would be punished by a simple, I'm disappointed, and that would be enough. Quinn eventually identified every trait in herself that her father didn't like, and did her best to get rid of it. Even as a child, she had figured out that her mother would not be able to support her against her father's wishes, and she developed a fear of her Dad not loving her if she wasn't good enough, and telling her that she wasn't a Fabray anymore. Over the years, this fear compounded and crushed Quinn, the little angel, beneath it._

* * *

With great stories, come great reviews.


	9. Chapter 9

**Title:** My Private Nation

**Pairing: **Quinn/Rachel

**Rating: **PG-13.

**Spoilers: **Takes place after EP13 'Sectionals'.Contains major part of storyline up until said episode.

**Timeline:** Three weeks, four days after Chapter 10.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Glee, the songs, or even the characters.

**Author's Note:**Thank you to my beta, Rainbombz, for the editing. Happy Reading and please R&R. Reviews are my lifeline. They also encourage me to write faster:) Also, I'm using a lot of scenes from the show, but changing them to fit my timeline and setting, so don't get confused. It's just the scene, not when it happened.

* * *

Mr. Shue was going on and on... and ON about some fantastic new idea he had for the Glee Club, probably something about paying homage to another pop sensation. On any normal, or close to normal day, Quinn would have been all for the idea because believe it or not, she really liked all the Glee activities, even if Mr. Schue's taste in music had her a little concerned at times. Today, however, she had zoned out completely. Not only was she thoroughly tired, Quinn was also extremely bored.

Rachel wasn't speaking to her properly after they had a massive argument about her pukeable wardrobe. Was pukeable even a word? Puke-tastic, Puke-worthy? Anyway, the point was that Quinn had simply made some helpful, not-so-polite suggestions that Rachel hadn't appreciated very much and as a result, Quinn was now deprived of Rachel's hilarious scribbled comments on whatever was going on in Glee at that time. She wondered why she couldn't just have kept her mouth shut.

* * *

_"Berry."_

_"Yes?" asked Rachel, looking up from the sheet music she'd been scanning. _

_"You **really** need to stop wearing that crap you call clothing."_

_"Excuse me?"_

_"I **said**, you need to do something about your choice of clothes," said Quinn. She'd been trying so hard to just sit there quietly and mind her own business, but she just could not keep her feelings in after that bright, bright pink sweater Berry had chosen to wear with an olive green skirt, of all things. _

_"Why?" asked Rachel, genuinely bewildered. "I like my clothes."_

_"I'm sure you do, but that's not really the point. Just... just trust me on this one. Get rid of the sweaters, the frilly blouses and those skirts," said Quinn, a bit amused that Rachel Berry, the High Queen of bad fashion, would question her advice._

_"Quinn, you **do** realize that you're asking me to get rid of my entire wardrobe, don't you?"_

_"You have **got** to be kidding me. Are you really trying to tell me that those are the only clothes you have?"_

_"Well, not the only clothes exactly," said Rachel. "More like the only clothes that fit."_

_"Huh?"_

_"You see, my dads have taken it upon themselves to preserve every piece of my childhood, including all my dresses from the time I was bor-"_

_"Got it. Got it. There is a stalker-ish shrine dedicated to you somewhere in this house, I've heard about that. But... you really don't have any other clothes?"_

_An hour's worth of scouring later, Quinn found that Rachel did not, in fact, have any other clothes. The brunette's entire wardrobe was piled up in neat stacks in front of Quinn, who sat examining them on Rachel's bed. The largest stack in front of her was that of sweaters - thick ones, thin ones, bright ones, printed ones... so many sweaters. Her baby was getting sick. _

_After carefully removing some of the clothes from that pile, she grabbed a huge plastic bag she'd gotten from the kitchen and began to shove the remaining clothes into it._

_"What exactly do you think you're doing?" asked Rachel, from her spot on the couch - a spot assigned by Quinn. _

_"What does it look like I'm doing?," said Quinn distractingly, flattening down the first pile she'd chucked in."We're throwing out all this, and getting you some normal clothes."_

_"Quinn, you can't do that!" exclaimed Rachel, getting up to take the bag from Quinn, which the blonde held out teasingly over her head. "My clothes are an expression of myself an-"_

_"Oh yeah? The 'expression' I get is that you're a haggard old spinster."_

_"That is not even an insult, Quinn. There is absolutely nothing wrong with choosing to remain unmarried."_

_"Are you for real? I'm telling you that you dress like crap and you're advocating being single."_

_"Whether I wear crap or not is entirely up to me. I have never enforced my fashion choices on you, then why must you insist on invading into my life? You should really learn to respect one's choice, Quinn."_

_"I am respecting choices, just not yours. And it's not like I'm throwing everything away. There's some pretty decent stuff in here, honestly. I think I've never noticed it 'cause you just love your sweaters and atrocious color combo's too much to give anything else a try."_

_"I-I like those sweaters. A lot of them are from my grandmother, actually. She seems to be the only person in our household who can comprehend my style."_

_"Well, duh. She's the only one who was born what, sixty years ago?... Listen, Berry, I really don't care what you throw on most of the time, but thing is, we live together now. You walking around like you do is bad for me now. I mean, it's not possible for me to hang around with someone who looks like that. Especially when you'd actually look.. normal if you took the time."_

_"Excuse me?"_

_"What? I don't believe I'm saying this, but you don't look all that bad when you've like, just come home from ballet classes and stuff. When you're wearing normal clothes. So if you'd just maybe wear something from this century, it'd be better for us."_

_"But I was under the impression that we were already friends and that you weren't bothered about people knowing it. Stop being so indecisive, will you."_

_Quinn's head snapped up at the word 'friend'. Sure, they'd been interacting a lot lately, but that was a given when you were living with someone. Friendship with Rachel, or anyone else for that matter, was something she wasn't quite ready for. _

_"Hold it. We... live together. And tolerate each other. But friends? I don't even think we're past the whole 'I-used-to-hate-you-a-week-ago' phase."_

_"Oh." _

_"So please get new clothes, will you? Walking around with a potato sack is bad for my rep."_

_"As far as I know, you don't **have** a 'rep', Quinn." There was a moment of silence in which Rachel realized that she had thrown a very low blow. She braced herself for the retaliation._

_"That coming from the transsexual gleek with gay dads. Yeah Berry, I have zero rep, but you're six feet under. And I don't even know why I was bothering to dig you out."_

_Since then, the two girls had stopped all forms of communication, including polite chit-chat at dinner. And since neither of them did things halfway, Rachel had completely refused to eat anything Quinn had so much as touched, which left her with the option of eating cereal and toast and more cereal and toast and Quinn had thrown all of Rachel's color-coded medicine charts into the bin along with all the doctor appointment schedules the other girl had drawn up for her. _

_It wasn't really working out well, as one can imagine. Rachel's diet was soon boring her to tears and even though she did try to introduce some variations in it, it didn't really compare with the food Quinn had gotten her used to. As for the blonde... well, she'd almost missed an appointment, and her medicines were in complete disarray. She was relying on the organizer in her phone to keep her on track, but that damn thing wasn't Rachel. Still, they avoided each other like the plague._

* * *

Quinn snapped out of her daydream once again, the pencil in her hand nearly ruining the sketch in front of her. Not that it was all that great in the first place - Rachel Berry had one of the most difficult faces in the world. The nose was coming out all wrong, and her eyes looked like they'd been transposed from a cow. So not good.

As Quinn thought about how porno was so much easier, she felt someone's eyes burning holes into the back of her head. Shifting slightly, she saw Santana looking at the picture in her hands with great interest.

"Oh shit," thought Quinn after a moment, when she realized how the situation would look to Santana. She knew that her sometime-friend's gaydar was sort of springing to life right now, and as a result was fairly over-active at times. And what she was doing right now was just going to show up as this huge dot on that device in Santana's head.

Looking back at the doodle in her hand, Quinn decided some damage control was in order. It wasn't as if the damn thing was any good anyway. She'd been meaning to finish it off with gold stars and hearts and stage lights and present it to Rachel, but the way it was looking, the brunette might take it to be an insult and bang her over the head with it.

So she just decided to give up on her original plan, and scribbled the word 'LOSER' where 'Broadway' was supposed to go, and was just going to add some more captions when she realized that Santana wasn't the only person admiring her work - Rachel was looking over her shoulder with an outraged expression on her face. Quinn decided against doing the first thing that came to mid - laughing - because she was pretty sure she'd be murdered for it. Today was so not her day and before she could do anything to clarify, Rachel's hand shot up.

"Mr. Shuester, since the topic of todays discussion is expression and emotion, I believe I have the perfect song to highlight the importance of true emotion in the enhancement of a performance."

"Go ahead, Rachel. The stage is all yours." Mr. Schue gave her a slightly encouraging, mostly amused nod. He wondered if there was any type of situation for which Rachel would not have the 'perfect song.'

Rachel took center stage after a quick word with the band. The notes of 'Gives You Hell' filled the room, and both Finn - who'd been flirting with Brittany - and Quinn looked alarmed.

_I wake up every evening_  
_With a big smile on my face_  
_And it never feels out of place...  
_

Rachel stepped around everyone in Glee, finally stopping in front of Finn, who'd quickly shifted his chair away from Britt's, and virtually sang the first verse of the song into his mouth, which was hanging open. She shut his jaw with a finger and he looked away, an extremely uncomfortable expression on his face. Aside from a smirk or two, no one thought about that little exchange much as Rachel moved away from him and towards the others, pulling them in with her energy.

Quinn was almost mentally cheering at the fact that Rachel had apparently bypassed her completely. She could only imagine the type of rumors Rachel would have stirred up by targeting her instead of Finn;_"Did you see that? RuPaul was all pissed at Juno? I wonder why? They're shacking up and stuff. Trouble in paradise, I guess."_

Quinn watched as Rachel moved to the little club-inside-Glee-club that Kurt and Mercedes had created and physically pulled all of them before beckoning Mike towards herself and her expression at that moment... that was a side to Rachel Quinn found herself suddenly interested in, despite the increasingly uncomfortable feeling she was getting in the pit of her stomach whenever Rachel spared her a glance. Quinn was trying so hard to hide behind Puck without being obvious about it, but he was too engrossed in trying to look up Rachel's skirt to provide effective cover. Plus, he didn't realize that she needed cover from Berry.

Because she couldn't behave like Finn and hang her head without it looking suspicious, Quinn did the only other thing that would stop her face from turning a brighter shade of red than it already was - she joined in. Hoping that the others, especially the noted gossip king and queen, would simply believe that Rachel was mad at Finn and only Finn, the blonde circled Rachel as well and before she knew it, she was laughing and clapping along with everyone else without the slightest effort.

_...When you hear this song I hope that it will give you hell_  
_You can sing along I hope that it puts you through hell_

Rachel pointed right at her when she sang the last few lines, but everyone was so engrossed in the song that they didn't notice. Well, except for Santana, that is. The cheerleader was a keen observer, and she noticed how only a minute amount of Rachel's anger was directed at Finn; a major part of it seemed to be aimed at Quinn, who was looking like an over-ripe tomato. This seemed way off. First Quinn and that horrendous drawing, and now this. Santana knew that something was up, and she wouldn't rest till she found out what. She tuned out Mr. Schue as he tried to be the mature grown up and explain the importance of focusing on assignments. Yeah, like they'd won Sectionals by watching ducks, right? Well, maybe Brittany had, but not the rest of them.

* * *

"Q, what's the deal with you and Treasure Trail?" demanded Santana as she cornered Quinn by her locker.

"We live together, unfortunately," said Quinn, not taking her eyes off the books she was putting in. She hoped that Santana would buy her act of nonchalance, but there wasn't really much chance of that.

"Which universe d'you think I'm from, again? I've never sang Gives You Hell to anyone I live with. Haven't ever circled them with _hearts_, either. Spill, Q."

"That was a caricature!"

"... Okay, that I'd believe, but she was singing to you Q. Don't deny it."

"How do I know why she was singing to me? She's pissed as hell 'cause I tried to help her out with her... help her out, basically."

"Please tell me you didn't try to help her with the vocals or something. There's snarky, and then there's stupid."

"Yeah, and I'm not that far gone yet. I just thought she could, y'know, get a better wardrobe... and maybe I wasn't really gentle about telling her that."

"She fucking burns holes in my eyes with those clothes every day. And her and Mercedes together... Lord knows there isn't any need to be gentle but are you sure this was just about you and the midgets clothes?"

"Yes!," said Quinn a little too forcefully. Santana sighed and took her hand off the lockers, backing off a little.

"Look, Q, I'll kill you if you tell anyone, but we're friends in our own fucked up way. We tried to poison each others shakes in the Cheerios practice, and you kinda stole my man, but still. So if you're trying to, I dunno, be friends or something with the biggest psycho in the school, I got your back. But don't say I didn't warn you when she makes you have all these homicidal tendencies."

Quinn was almost speechless after Santana's little speech. Not that she thought Santana was heartless or anything, but as far as anyone knew, all of Santana's nice emotions were reserved for Brittany. Santana wasn't the least bit averse to screwing with people's brains, and for a moment Quinn thought she may just be trying to get some new fodder for gossip. But then she realized that beggars can't be choosers - whether Santana was legit or not, she was one of the only people who spoke to Quinn without laughing at her.

"Thanks, S. That means a lot to me, but there really is nothing at all, including civility, between Berry and me. I'm grateful as hell to her, but that doesn't automatically mean I have to like her, in any way."

"Yeah, about that... I would've helped you, I just didn't-"

"S, I know. I know... And it's fine, except I have Berry now, and she's almost a bigger pain at home than she is here."

"You know, the Coach is injecting me with this thing that's supposed to stop me from feeling pity or kindness cause apparently the Head Cheerio isn't supposed to feel that, but I don't think it's working yet - I still pity you. Let's deport her."

"Hell yeah. As soon as this," said Quinn, pointing to her baby bump,"is over, we'll report her to immigration - gender unspecified crazy diva-chick who was thrown out from Israel 'cause of her screeching."

The bell rang just then, and Quinn went off to her biology class, while Santana watched her go. She knew that Q was lying, but decided not to push it. Good things came to those who waited and she had to find Brittany now, who had probably wandered into the wrong classroom or something. Neither one of them noticed Rachel, who was standing at her locker, listening in on the Berry-bashing session.

* * *

Rachel had been getting books for her World History class when she'd heard her name being mentioned a few paces behind by a very familiar voice. Since she had perfected the art of listening in on all of the former Head Cheerio's conversations inconspicuously, it wasn't very difficult for her to follow the conversation which made her want to bang her head on the locker. Repeatedly.

Thinking that it might be detrimental to her nose, she settled for smacking her head with her hand, mentally berating herself for believing that Quinn would ever really change. Granted, the girl was pretty decent to her at home despite her staunch refusal to call Rachel by her first name except when Rachel's dads were around, but Rachel should have known that school would be different. Quinn had made it known to people that she was living with Rachel in a rather clever way - she'd told Brittany, who'd spread the word - that enabled her to avoid any direct discussion of the topic. When confronted, she was back to her old ways of deflection.

Rachel had dissected Quinn, even better than she'd figured out Finn. She knew that the blonde, who looked like she didn't know what fear meant, was one of the most sensitive and insecure people she'd ever come across. Quinn could take even the smallest criticism to heart, mulling over it for weeks on end, and the slightest hint of disapproval from people who she thought were important was difficult for her to digest. The brunette didn't yet understand why exactly Quinn needed to fit in so badly, since she already seemed to be the most popular person in school, but she could sympathize.

For the longest time, all Rachel had wanted was to fit it, to be accepted. Having two gay dads and a rather loud personality hadn't helped her cause much. It took a long time for her to understand, with the help of her parents, that the things she thought she could suppress were the things that made her unique and memorable. When she did get it, she took the lesson to heart, making a promise to herself to never compromise on her own beliefs and standards to suit other people, because there were two things that no one knew better than her - Rachel and Rachel's dreams - and therefore it made no sense to take the advice of people who didn't know what they were talking about.

The old feelings of wanting to belong and be popular did surface occasionally, at times blinding her better judgement, but a few well-worded pep talks she'd get herself straightened out and back on track pretty soon, even if people did mistake her drive for insanity.

She truly felt sorry for Quinn, more now than before hearing her. While she at least had a loving family to rely on no matter what, Quinn had no one at all, except for people who the blonde couldn't really count on to look out for her. It was understandable that she would try to retain whatever little she had left, even if it was at the expense of bringing Rachel down. Still, it did hurt to hear Quinn saying those things as opposed to someone else, since she had let the other girl into her little world, and had let her see the more unguarded version of Rachel Berry. Quinn had gotten to know that Rachel wasn't nearly as high strung at home, nor did she spew out the entire Webster's Dictionary in one sentence. They'd even managed to have a little bit of fun, along with the not so nice stuff.

* * *

_"Is this what I **think** it is?" said Quinn, holding up a Wonder Woman action figure in her hand, the glee evident in her voice._

_"Put that **down**. Why the hell are you snooping around in my room?" Rachel was standing at the door of her room - having been brought there by Quinn's shriek - and blushing furiously._

_"Snooping? Me? Noooo..." Quinn put her hand back in the drawer and fished out a comic, which she proceeded to wave in Rachel's direction." I was just looking for some stationary when I came across this... stuff."_

_"Stuff... Stuff!," exclaimed Rachel, outraged at the casual way Quinn was treating one of her most prized possessions. "That is an original copy of The Wonder Woman Chronicles Volume One. It's one of the most coveted books in comic history."_

_"Oh my god, Berry," giggled Quinn,"I was right. You are **so **closet gay. You have a thing for a chick in metal bracelets."_

_"How dare you! Wonder Woman is one of the most iconic and influential comic book characters till date. She is not some half dressed 'chick in metal bracelets' who goes around making guys drool... Well, she **does**, but she is also a fine example of what you may call girl power. People worship Wonder Woman."_

_"People like you, yeah. So is this the only thing you have of her, or is there more?" Rachel looked down, deflated, and tried to think of any, any way to get the hell out of this conversation._

_"You have **more**? Let me guess- there's a little corner somewhere with all the walls covered in Wonder Woman posters and candles you light everyday."_

_"Um... Sort of."_

_"Show me," said Quinn, her eyes glinting. "Now."_

_Rachel took Quinn down to the basement, which was mostly covered in boxes of Rachel Berry Collectibles, but behind the tonnes and tonnes of Rachel stuff, there **was** a 'little corner with all the walls covered in Wonder Woman posters', and there was even a candle put in front of another Wonder Woman action figure, right next to stacks of old comics and DVD's. When Rachel Berry had an obsession, she **had** an obsession._

_"I don't believe this. Glee isn't your whole life after all. Wonder Woman is." Quinn was laughing uncontrollably by now, but as she moved to touch one of the comics, Rachel swatted her hand away._

_"Don't touch them. They're delicate."_

_"Delicate? You're hitting a pregnant girl and you're calling those rags delicate?"_

_"Quinn, really. Stop it. You shouldn't knock something till you've tried it." Rachel leafed through the comics till she reached the one she was looking for. She pulled it out and held it out to Quinn._

_"You cannot be serious. I'm not touching that."_

_"Come on. It won't bite." Quinn tentatively took the comic between two fingers, looking a bit revolted._

_Two hours later, Rachel was begging Quinn to get the hell out of her corner._

_Five hours later, at 3 am, the Berry family was awoken to the sounds of clapping thunder. They went downstairs to find Quinn glued to the T.V with Justice League running on DVD. Rachel groaned and dragged the girl up to bed, earning herself a sharp pinch in the process, reminding her that it was a school night. Quinn was walking around like a zombie the next day._

_Since then, they started having WW marathons every Friday and Saturday, neither girl being otherwise occupied. Sam would join in occasionally, but he would mostly sit and watch as they debated the pro's and con's of every damn aspect of Wonder Woman - her different looks, weapons, history etc etc. It was the one time the Quinn and Rachel completely gelled with each other. And also when Quinn developed a sympathy for Puck's Mario addiction._

* * *

_Rachel was startled out of her sleep at five in the morning by the sound of the bathroom door being shut. It was right next to her room, and she was a light sleeper most of the time, so she'd been woken like this rather a lot in the past few days. She soon heard a faint retching sound and knew that Quinn's round of morning sickness had begun. It was usually like this, with the blonde throwing up early in the day and on the rare occasion she didn't, she could be seen rushing out of the first few classes with her hand over her mouth. _

_For the first few days Rachel, who was slightly squeamish, had felt sick herself. After that, she'd gotten more used to it and begun to feel sorry for the other girl. Rachel would have killed herself if she'd been the one going through the ordeal. Well, she wouldn't have, but she would have threatened to do so loudly and repeatedly. Quinn, on the other hand, seemed eager to go through the motions of pregnancy making as little fuss as possible, almost as if she thought that if she didn't talk about it, people would forget what was happening to her._

_That was one of the reasons Rachel was reluctant to see if the blonde required any assistance. Care and all aside, she didn't want to be assailed by the moody girl. She knew that Quinn operated by ignoring her problems, and she thought that if she acknowledged the fact that Quinn was in fact throwing up because she was pregnant and had crazy hormones, the other girl might not appreciate it. But after much deliberation, Rachel pulled herself out of bed and bravely made her way to the bathroom, knocking lightly before going in. _

_Quinn was kneeling by the toilet seat in what could very well be the cutest set of teddy bear pajamas, the girl's head hung down as she clutched her stomach. The brunette quickly grabbed a towel from the closet, leaning down beside Quinn and carefully wiped away a few stray locks that were clinging to her damp forehead. She wasn't really sure of what would be most soothing for Quinn but settled for rubbing her back, mentally coaching herself to ignore the repulsive smell and to buy a few pregnancy books, something she thought she should have done earlier. _

_Rachel kept up with the routine of flushing the toilet and liberally spraying air freshener till the puking seemed to subside, at which time she handed Quinn a damp washcloth, waiting for the other girl to sit upright before getting up herself. _

_"I'll be right outside. Just call if you need anything, okay?" Quinn nodded slightly, and Rachel forced herself to walk out calmly instead of running. _

_Quinn didn't really talk much at breakfast, or meet her eye, but she did mutter a hurried thanks as they were leaving for school, __and Rachel got used to getting up more than an hour earlier than her normal routine. She also got used to buying the Mint Scented freshener - apparently Berry Splash, which her dads found funny, made Quinn even sicker._

* * *

Rachel had left Quinn alone for the rest of the school day, as she saw no point in creating a fuss over something in a place where they couldn't even talk about it properly . She chose, instead, to focus on the utter crap that the next group performance of Glee was turning out to be. Only five of the members had turned up for the after school session, and even then they weren't able to agree on a single thing. Since the meeting was reaching no conclusion without Mr. Schue, who was in some Spanish tutoring session, they called it off. Rachel went home feeling just a slight bit put off, but thought she would simply have a brain storming session, which was a guaranteed cure.

When Rachel got home, she had expected to find Quinn already there, since the blonde had skipped Glee. But to her surprise, the house was completely empty; Sam was at the office, Joseph at one of his volunteer camps and Quinn was... somewhere. Rachel felt even more dejected, because nothing seemed to be following her schedule today. She'd been hoping to talk to Quinn as soon as she got home, in order to get their discussion, which might turn out to be a bit serious, out of the way first and then plan out some songs and choreography for Glee Club but it looked like she'd have to reverse the order.

Nearly two hours later, as she was in the middle of scouring the internet for sheet music, she heard the key turn in the lock and went down to find Quinn standing in the corridor, covered from head to toe in goo.

"What on earth happened to you?" demanded Rachel from the foot of the stairs.

"Huh?... Oh, I was with Puck. We were baking some cookies for this charity thing his mom had," said Quinn, carefully shaking off some crumbs from her head onto the mat.

"Were you baking the cookies in the oven or on your head?"

Quinn looked down at herself and giggled slightly.

"We just got a bit carried away. I'm nothing, you should see Noah," said Quinn, virtually beaming at Rachel. She came up the stairs, careful not to drip too much onto the carpet, and squeezed past Rachel.

"I'll just go clean up a bit. Can you just grab some clothes for me, please? I'd rather not walk any more than required."

"Yes, sure."

With that, Quinn went into the bathroom, and Rachel headed towards Quinn's room in search of some fresh clothes. She couldn't quite place a finger on why she wasn't feeling as nice as she should have been on seeing Quinn that happy after so many days. The blonde had looked positively radiant, and while Rachel was glad, she was also feeling a little... something, a twinge in her chest that wasn't the most pleasant feeling in the world. It was almost as if she was angry at Noah for being the one to make Quinn look like she had the sun shining out of her. But then that thought was absurd, wasn't it?

* * *

Reviews are like Quinn's smile - they should make an appearance as often as possible.


	10. Chapter 10

**Title:** My Private Nation

**Pairing: **Quinn/Rachel

**Rating: **PG-13

**Spoilers: **Season 1

**Timeline:** 4 days after Chapter9

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Glee, the songs, or even the characters.

**Author's Note: **Happy Reading and please R&R. Reviews are my lifeline. They also encourage me to write faster.:)

In case anyone's confused, **all the canon stuff mentioned does not follow the timeline of the show. **I've taken single, isolated incidents out of the show and fit them into my own timeline,which is mentioned at the start of all chapters. If there's any clarification required, let me know:)

* * *

Rachel was sitting at her bedroom window flipping through her Broadway Musical Soundtrack collection. She'd been doing that a lot in the past few days owing to the fact that her only companion, Quinn, was spending a large amount of time with a certain Noah Puckerman. Although the brunette was pretty happy that Noah and Quinn seemed to be working through their differences and forming a rather healthy relationship, she couldn't honestly say that she enjoyed Quinn's increasing absence.

After a while, Rachel decided that she had wasted enough of her time pondering over Quinn and Noah. The 'Hello' project Mr. Shue had assigned to them was due in three days and she still hadn't picked out an appropriate song so she got out her car and drove down to the library, hoping for a little inspiration. Rachel needed to figure out a song that would be good enough not only to wow the audience, but also one that would showcase her vocal capabilities perfectly. She had done a large amount of research and found out that Regionals and Nationals for show choirs were the places to be in order to get discovered. She wasn't going to waste that opportunity.

In the library, a certain dark haired boy was leafing through sheet music for his next solo performance at Carmel. His coach often encouraged her pet performers to give such performances in order to enhance their skill, popularity and visibility. He did it the most often, of course, in order to hone his skills and to become better prepared for what he knew was a long and promising future in Broadway. As he was visualizing the choreography for this song, his eye fell on a girl who had just entered the library. On any other day, he would have passed over such a frumpy looking creature, but there was something about her that looked familiar. Too familiar, in fact. After a moment, he realized that this girl was none other than Rachel Berry, the girl that his coach had asked him to seek out and 'befriend'. This was his lucky day.

Jesse St. James moved across the room and waited till Rachel was hidden behind a book to make his entry. He smoothly pushed the book down with one finger, looked Rachel straight in the eyes and gave her one of his most charismatic and relaxed smiles.

"Lionel Richie, huh? He's one of my favorites."

"Oh my God, y-you're Jesse St. James. You're in Vocal Adrenaline," said Rachel, swallowing nervously and forgetting all about the sheet music in her hand.

"And you're Rachel Berry. I saw you perform at Sectionals." He took a deep breath. "Your rendition of 'Don't Rain On My Parade' was flawed. Your voice lacked all of Barbra's emotional depth. But you're talented," he said, while moving away towards the piano. Rachel followed him, a bit awed at the fact that she'd managed to bump into Jesse of all people.

Jesse slowly coaxed Rachel into giving a spontaneous performance of 'Hello', and did his level best to charm her while at it. He knew he'd chosen the right song for the occasion, considering the way she was looking at him. He put on his best show face, expressing all the required emotions to bring Rachel under his spell, smiling to himself the entire time. Jesse had pegged Rachel as the type of faceless girl who always hung around him at Carmel, seemingly so confident and uncaring of other's opinions, but so easily molded with just the right amount of interest shown in the right way. He's asked around about her, hoping to have some background information on which to base his attack, and it was helping now.

Apparently no one knew her very well, but they still had a terrible opinion of her - loud, obnoxious, know-it-all, unpopular, obsessive. She had no friends, her boyfriends all dumped her and her club members were perpetually annoyed with her. Oh, and she'd taken in some pregnant girl, but that wasn't too important. He couldn't for the life of him figure out why Shelby had wanted him to approach Rachel, but he did as she said. After all, she'd never guided him down the wrong path before. Anyway, he could have a girl like Rachel Berry eating out of his hand in no time, so it wasn't proving to be much of a time consuming challenge.

As the song ended and the applause heightened, Rachel blushed and looked down, awed both by the praise and the boy sitting next to her. She couldn't believe that she had bumped into Jesse St. James of all people. He was, after all, one of the most promising male lead vocals in all of Ohio. If only she had the opportunity to work with someone like him in Glee. It was obvious they complimented each other perfectly, unlike her and Finn.

"We should do this again sometime." Oh God. Oh God. Oh Barbra Streisand. Was Jesse St. James asking her out?

"Friday night. I'll pick you up." He was. All of Rachel's theatrical instincts told her to swoon at that very moment so he could proceed to catch her and stare into her eyes, with romantic music playing in the background. But she managed to control herself and give a simple nod. Jesse smiled at her and walked away, leaving Rachel standing there feeling slightly breathless. It wasn't as if she'd never interacted with people of the opposite sex before, but this was different. With Finn, the courtship had mostly been from her side, with his contributions being at par with that of a twelve year old's, and Puck.. well, there wasn't any courtship there at all, unless you counted Rachel washing his mohawk.

Jesse wasn't like them though. She didn't know whether it was just him, or whether all boys outgrew their utter incompetence at grasping the finer points of romance eventually but his attitude was a welcome change from their awkward fumbling. Gathering her sheet music from the piano, she made her way out of the library, almost forgetting what was in her hand till the librarian chased her down and made her return the music she'd absentmindedly carried away with her. Luckily Rachel was a regular and responsible member, so it didn't go any further.

* * *

For the first time in over a week, Rachel managed to come home after Quinn. The blonde was already in the kitchen, no doubt tinkering with some new recipe, by the time Rachel arrived and even the enticing smell didn't penetrate the brunette's thoughts, who walked straight past the kitchen despite Quinn calling her name a few times.

Quinn found her ten minutes later sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Berry?"

"What?" asked Rachel, not even sparing Quinn a glance as she continued to stare at her gold star poster.

"What's up? You seem to have lost your sense of hearing."

"Huh?"

"Precisely. I called out to you a gazillion times and you didn't respond," said Quinn, taking a seat beside the brunette. "Plus, you said huh. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I've simply got a lot on my mind." That wasn't a lie really, but Rachel was still being vague in the hope that Quinn would get bored of the interrogation. She should have known that the reluctance to divulge information only perked the blonde's interest.

"Care to tell me?"

"Not really, no. And what are you doing home so early? Was Noah otherwise occupied?"

"Actually, I got in about five minutes before you. And that was a pathetic attempt at trying to change the topic. So stop trying to distract me."

"There's nothing to distract you from. I'm simply bothered by the Glee assignment Mr. Schuester has set for us, since I can't come up with any suitable ideas." Rachel avoided the real reason for her current mood, mainly because she wasn't stupid enough to think that her fratanizing with the enemy would be looked upon favorably by her fellow GLee clubbers. There was every chance that Quinn didn't know who Jesse was, since the blonde wasn't involved in the inner circle of all the show choir gossipers in Ohio, but Rachel didn't want to take the chance of Quinn dropping the name in Glee and the others recognizing it. Plus, it wasn't as if Quinn ever gave her any details about the increasing amount of time the blonde spent with Puck.

"I _still_ don't get why you take them so seriously. They're just practice sessions, and you've like _memorized_ half the songs ever recorded. You can just go up and dish anything out on the fly, and they'll still love it."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence, but that's not really the point. You won't understand."

"Yeah, I probably won't," conceded Quinn. "Hey, why don't we do something together? I don't have anything either, and I'm not too hyped about finding a song for myself."

"You want to do a song in Glee with _me_? Are you sure?"

"Um.. yeah? Saves me all the work, plus we've never done any of those things together. Might as well try out some new pairings before other competitions."

"Fine. I really have no problem with that," said Rachel, immediately perking up. "Why don't we go over the list of songs I have finalized with 'Hello' as the central theme, and then we can chose one in your vocal range. My dad is great with-"

"Rachel, chill. We'll plan all this later. Right now, I'm hungry as hell. I haven't eaten anything since lunch," said Quinn before the look that came over Rachel's face made her realize that she should probably have kept that piece of information to herself.

"Are you _demented_? Do you have any idea how _bad_ that is for the baby? Why on earth haven't you eaten anything since lunch?"

"I was with Noah," said Quinn, as if that explained everything.

"You _cannot_ be telling me that being with Noah somehow prevents food from traveling down your throat."

"Rachel..."

"What? I wasn't aware that you were unable to eat in front of oth-"

"He _kissed_ me, okay."

"Oh." Rachel didn't exactly know what to say after that, so she just waited for the fidgeting blonde to elaborate. She got a mental image of Puck and Quinn making out and felt like ripping his tongue out of his mouth and shoving it up his ass. Damn her imagination.

"We were sitting and talking and... he just kissed me all of a sudden. I don't know where it came from and it just felt really.. funny."

"Funny? Like tickly funny?"

"No, not like _tickly _funny! I just... It was so out of the blue." Looking back on it, Quinn knew that that wasn't strictly true. There had been signs - little touches and looks Puck would send her way that she chose to ignore and will away till he finally made a move that she couldn't wish away.

"Quinn, he didn't push you into anything, did he?"

"No! It wasn't like that... He's been great, actually. I never thought that Puck actually knew how to be considerate... But I just can't handle being with him right now. I don't want a relationship on top of everything else."

"Then you need to tell him that," said Rachel, remembering the conversation they'd had the day Quinn had tried to run away. She understood the very real possibility of Quinn's fears materializing if the blonde spent too much time in Puck's company. It was a matter of persuasion, really - it'd only take one weak moment and wrong decision to ruin any chances of Quinn's life getting back on track. "Tell him in a way that he'll understand."

"I guess I'll talk to him," said Quinn, dreading that particular conversation. She'd never been very good at talking about break-ups and such. "It's just that... I've seen a different side to him in the past few weeks. And it would be nice to have somebody, you know?"

"You have me," said Rachel, a bit too loudly, making Quinn flinch slightly. "I mean, you have us. Me and my dads, and even everyone in Glee."

"Berry, I know you won't understand, given your track record, but it's not the same thing. You guys are there to... play Monopoly with, but I wanted someone who'd... It's just different, alright?" said Quinn, not wanting to put her thoughts into words. She wanted someone who understood what was happening to her, to her life, and help her through it. She'd thought Puck might be that person, but it was obvious that he couldn't separate his feelings for her from their newfound friendship. Quinn didn't blame him, really, but it was still a disappointment.

"Alright... There's no need to take any sort of decision in a hurry, Quinn, but I would advise you to perhaps distance yourself from Noah while you're deciding. It would save both of you a lot of heartache. Now, you said something about being hungry?" said Rachel, getting up and motioning for Quinn to follow her out. She needed a reprieve from hearing about how wonderful Puck was.

* * *

Dinner was a bit quiet that day, and also a little burnt. Joseph and Sam gave up on trying to engage the girls in any sort of conversation, and just talked between themselves. Quinn would offer a comment or two in the middle, but other than that, she was lost in her own world. Rachel just shoveled down her food as fast as she could without seeming rude and went upstairs.

Rachel flopped down on her bed after putting the privacy sign up on her door - the Berry's didn't believe in locking doors for privacy. Her thoughts were racing in every direction possible, but were constantly coming back to one person - Jesse. He kept popping up in her mind no matter what else she tried to focus on. She remembered how her dads had taken her to see a show of Vocal Adrenaline when she was younger and very reluctant to join the 'Geek Club' despite her gorgeous voice. VA hadn't been as big a deal as they were now, but were steadily climbing, and had some performers which a few off-Broadway producers were keeping a close eye on. Jesse had been the male lead even then, although he had just joined the group. Shelby had instantly recognized not only the boy's potential, but also the absolutely unbeatable combination of his talent and drive. That was the day that Rachel had understood that show choir could be so much more than the freak show Sandy Ryerson had turned it into. That was the reason she had joined and stayed with Glee even through all the bullshit. She had a vision for what they could become, and it was all thanks to Jesse St. James.

And now the boy who she had stared up at, who had inspired her, was interested in her. It was so difficult to comprehend. She couldn't really believe it, and half expected him not to turn up on Friday. But if he did... no, she didn't bother to get her hopes up. Rachel had been so disappointed in Finn that she refused to set herself up for the same heartbreak with Jesse. He probably wouldn't show up, or worse, he would string her along only to make a fool of her later.

It was at these sort of moments that she felt almost envious of Quinn and Puck. Not in a bad way exactly, but like Quinn had said, it was 'different'; having someone to trust and rely on, someone who would be there in situations no one else could be. A part of her really wanted a person like that - not a lover, just a person.

Then there was this other part of her that wanted Puck deported to Timbuktu. She couldn't understand why she didn't want Quinn and Puck together. Jealousy wasn't it; after all, she was over Noah completely. Not that she'd ever been extremely into him. And Noah was a changed man these days. He wasn't sleeping with every girl he laid his eyes on (only the hot ones), nor was he getting suspended every two days. Even Sam was impressed by the way he was behaving at work. Noah had also been very courteous with Quinn. That is before he tried to feel her up. Stupid moron.

Rachel thought that maybe her protective instincts were making an appearance. Quinn had stayed with them for some time now, and she was completely a part of the family. She was like the sibling that Rachel never had or wanted, right? So it was natural for Rachel to want to protect her from Puck and the world of trouble he brought with him.

Her train of though was interrupted by a knock on the door. Quinn was standing outside with the phone in her hand.

"It's for you."

Rachel took the phone, wondering who on earth would be calling her.

"Hello."

"Rachel Berry?"

"Jesse?" she asked softly, her grip on the phone tightening.

"Yes. I hope you remember our arrangement for Friday."

"Of course. I was thinking-"

"Don't. I want to be the one to plan out our first date. Make it perfect for you. Can I pick you up at seven?"

"That'll be fine. But you don't know where I live."

"You don't need to bother yourself about that. See you on Friday... On and there's no need to dress up."

With that, Rachel heard the beep of the phone as he hung up. She still held the phone to her ear, smiling and feeling slightly giddy. Rachel had gotten used to being not only the dominant, but also the more invested person in a relationship. She had always been the one organizing dates and meetings and all sorts of things with both Finn and Noah. It was nice to have the other person seem interested for a change. It made her feel a little like there was at least one person who was genuinely interested in her just for her, and not because she was the last resort or the means to an end. Maybe giving Jesse a chance wouldn't be a bad idea.

Rachel had been so engrossed in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed Quinn come into the room again. Quinn stood near the door and watched Rachel grin like a lovestruck idiot into the phone. It reminded her of the way her sister had looked when she'd been asked out on her first date by the guy she had a crush on.

"So, who's got you so happy?" Rachel jumped at hearing Quinn's voice and nearly dropped the phone.

"Learn to knock, will you?"

"Door was open," said Quinn lightly, walking in. "Now, who were you talking to?"

"No one."

"Oh, so now you have imaginary friends calling you from Lalaland?"

"Not at all amusing Quinn. It wasn't anyone important, and you should learn to keep out of other people's affairs."

"You're not other people, Berry, so stop pulling that privacy crap on me," said Quinn, not the least bit deterred by Rachel's attitude. While she may be sensitive, when Quinn wanted information, pretty much nothing got in her way. "Who's the dude?"

"He is not a 'dude'!...I met him when I went down to the library." Rachel went and sat down on her bed as she spoke, fiddling with the buttons on the phone. Quinn came up next to her and took the phone out of her hand, smiling down at her.

"Why do I think that there's a little more to it than that? Do I know him?"

"Have you ever heard of Jesse St.-"

"James?" Rachel only nodded in response.

"I know him, kind of. Family association."

"You're related?"

"Are you _trying_ to insult me? God no, Berry. I know I'm cracked, but even I'm not related to him. His dad and mine are business associates, so I've met him a few times. My mom even tried to hook us up."

"Then what happened?"

"I didn't show up."

"Quinn, that's mean."

"Hardly. I'd heard more than enough about him to realize that we'd just be torturing each other. Dating is still something I could go through, but if I'd even gone there, my mom would be picking out wedding dresses. You might like him, though. Heard he's a drama freak like you."

"I am not a drama freak. I simply-"

"Yeah, yeah. Try to convince someone else," said Quinn, waving off Rachel's building rant. "So anyway, tell me more about Jesse... Looks, attitude, bank balance."

"Quinn!"

"What? It's a perfectly valid question."

"Well.. he looks absolutely divine, to be honest - tall, impeccable hair, and the most intense eyes... I could feel myself melting under that chocolaty gaze... And his voice. His voice, Quinn, leaves me speechless. To be expected, of course, from the lead of Vocal Adrenaline," said Rachel, too lost in her reminiscing to realize what she'd said till it was too late.

"I'm sorry, the what of what?"

"The-the male lead of Vocal Adrenaline."

"The male lead of Vocal Adrenaline... so only just our biggest rival, then?"

"Oh, our meeting had nothing to do with-"

"Rachel Berry, has your pea sized brain finally imploded? Do you even remember the fact that he's competition, or did the chocolaty gaze melt your brain as well?"

"Quinn! I'm telling you, our respective show choirs had nothing to do with out purely co-incidental meeting today."

"Oh, and I'm totally supposed to believe that, right? You're the one who's been telling me how hard they work and how much they rehearse and the lengths they go to to freak out the competition. So you cannot possibly expect anyone to believe that you just bumped into each other."

"I'll admit it looks suspicious, but Lima's a small place. I bump into unexpected people all the time."

"Unexpected people... You are unbelievable. Just absolutely unbelievable and incredibly dense. So you just bumped into him? Sure, Rachel, sure. Let's see how many people believe that," said Quinn, her concern directed more towards the response other members of the Glee Club would have to this information than anything else.

"Quinn, stop. Please... We barely spoke for ten minutes."

"And he's asking you out already. Bit suspicious, don't you think?"

"You're overreacting, Quinn. Our duet had a deep impact on both of us, and Jesse simply acted on his theatrical instincts and asked to meet me again."

"Oh, right. Deep theatrical instincts just totally explains it... And of course assuming he's a spy planted by only the most vicious show choir in America is a completely over-the-top, nonsensical assumption, right?" Quinn had moved away now, and she was looking at Rachel disbelievingly.

"Please, just stop. It's not necessary to assume the worst in every situation."

"Oh my God. You don't even want to consider it, do you? You're so caught up in your dream of this perfect guy that you don't even care why he's come into your life. Well, you can make me stop, but what do you plan to do when everyone else finds out? I hope you're not deluded enough to think that they'll start doing family planning for the two of you."

"They cannot find out about this," said Rachel, recognizing the very real problem that would cause. "Quinn really, you can't tell them about my date with Jesse."

"You think I'll need to tell them? This is going to be the biggest thing on those weird show choir blogs that Mercedes stalks... You're such a freakin' hypocrite, Rachel. Going on and on about how New Directions means so much to you and how we should do everything we can to make the club better, but when it comes to you, it's okay to let us lose the competition as long as you get your date."

"We will not lose the competition! I don't know why you can't believe the fact that Jesse and I are interested in each other, not each other's show choirs." Rachel needed Quinn to stop arguing with her, because that'd be the only way she could ignore her own nagging doubts about Jesse's intentions.

"If you really think so, then why is everyone else finding out a problem?"

"Because they'll never understand. They seem to have it in their heads that if I don't get solos, I'll sabotage our chances of winning, and this would be the perfect way to back up their claims."

"Well, it's true, isn't it?"

"How can you say that? I have done everything in my power to keep this club together, to help all of us improve. I take the solos because frankly, it's a competition with other show choirs, and we need to put our best foot forward at those times instead of worrying about appeasing egos. I would never do anything like.. oh, I don't know, leak the setlist or maybe... try to break up the club. Sound familiar?"

"Don't try to play the blame game with me. That was different... We're just a few weeks away from Regionals. You can't do this right now."

"Why? _Why_ is it that all of _you_ can go and do whatever _you_ want, whenever you want, but when _I _try to be just a little happy, it's not allowed. Finn can drool over Santana and Brittany when they're _obviously_ in love with each other, Artie and Tina can have some on-off-on again relationship which seriously affects their interaction on stage, you can just play with Finn then shove your tongue down Puck's throat, but I can't even talk to Jesse? How's that fair, Quinn?"

"We're all in Glee. Whatever goes on between all of us stays on the inside, Rachel. Has Cupid's arrow punctured your brain, or were you always this dumb?"

"Enough. It's because of your baby drama that we nearly lost Sectionals. It's because of the Cheerios that all the other teams had our songs. I'm still not saying a word about you and Noah. I know, I absolutely know that you two will probably have some big showdown just before Regionals and he'll try to get out of Glee, but I'm still letting you do it because it's your life. You need to get over yourself and extend the same courtesy to me."

"Fine. You go ahead and ruin your life. I promise I won't say a single thing to anyone. But I reserve full right to say 'I told you so' at the end of it."

Saying that, Quinn walked out of the room, rolling her eyes at Rachel's ridiculousness. She left Rachel sitting on her bed and trying very hard not to cry. Without thinking too much, she went up to the terrace and stood on the edge, leaning on the parapet. She let the cool air rush over her face and calm her down. Today was not going well. She knew she had overreacted to what Rachel had said, but there was no point trying to talk about it rationally when she knew that both of them would just get worked up again. She didn't want to say anything in the heat of the moment that she might end up paying for later.

Quinn thought back to everything she'd heard about Jesse from her parents. They had _loved_ him - polite, well-mannered, rich, well-reputed family. Even hearing about all of it made her feel suffocated. No matter how much she may pretend, Quinn knew she wouldn't be able to live the life her sister was stuck in. And she was pretty damn sure Rachel wouldn't ever like a guy that her parents approved of. There was something distinctly wrong with this picture. That guy had every girl in town falling at his feet. There was no reason for him to pick Rachel of his own free will. Not that she wasn't worth it or anything because Quinn had discovered that Rachel was one of the most humorous, intense and awesome people she knew, but still, those sort of qualities weren't the ones Jesse was looking for. And then there was her... gay family. Jesse's mom and dad were pretty much on the same page as hers when it came to gay men. They wouldn't let Jesse breathe near a girl like Rachel. There was something very, very off about this picture. Quinn was sure that Jesse was doing this to either bring New Directions down, or on someone's prompting. She didn't want Rachel to get hurt over someone like him, but apparently he had laid on the charm real damn thick. There was no point in arguing with Rachel; it would only make her believe in Jesse's honesty more firmly.

And then there was her own not-so-small problem - Puck. What the hell was she supposed to do about him? If she was brutally honest with herself, she couldn't envision any sort of future with him, and couldn't even bring herself to care about how that would affect him. They obviously couldn't be friends, and she had to much to think about in her own life to bother about what he was feeling, callous though that may seem. But how were you supposed to convey that to someone who was following you around with the air of a lost puppy? She had run pretty damn fast when he'd tried to kiss her, but the problem with Puck was that he'd started coming up with explanations for every time she dropped slight hints and refused to accept that she just did not want him. Quinn wanted someone to give her a sharp kick for being so oblivious to the signs. The old Quinn would have immediately picked up on the signals Puck had been sending out and known exactly what to do to deter him, but she was so out of her element these days. She'd been so grateful to have one more person who was actually almost as connected to her situation as she was, that she'd totally ignored the signs and would have to deal with the consequences now.

"Quinn?" She turned around to find Rachel standing a few paces away from her and holding out a light jacket. "It's cold up here, and we really wouldn't want you to fall ill."

"Thank you," said Quinn, taking the jacket. She _had_ been starting to feel a little chilly.

Rachel walked up and stood next to her. The silence stretched on uncomfortably for a few minutes, before Quinn decided to be the bigger person for once and spoke up.

"I'm sorry." She almost laughed at the astounded look on Rachel's face. "Yeah, didn't expect me to say that, right? But I _do_ actually apologize occasionally, even though I'm totally right about everything." Rachel cracked a smile at that.

"Each and every person on earth thinks I'm the know-it-all but you, Quinn Fabray, have bested me in that department."

"Well, I do like being on top... But the point here is that you're right. It's none of my business who you choose to date, and I don't know why I was judging you for it. But Rachel, believe it or not, I said what I said because I'm concerned."

"And I appreciate the concern a lot. I even understand where it's coming from to a certain extent because I know that Jesse and I aren't the most ideal couple. Maybe we won't even want to see each other after Friday. But Quinn, what if he's the one who I'm supposed to fall in love with? And if I let this go, I'll always have that huge 'what if' trailing me."

"I know. I totally know. So you know what? Just go for it... I don't know Jesse and my thoughts about him _were_ a little biased. Who knows, maybe he'll turn out to be great. You go on that date, enjoy yourself, and I swear I won't do anything to make you miserable."

"Including not telling anyone?"

"Yes, including that."

"I'm _so_ glad we got that settled, because I'm freezing. Can we please go down now?" Rachel tucked her hands into her pockets and started jumping around on her toes. Quinn laughed at her antics and they headed to bed. It was, after all, a school night.

* * *

"All you wanted was for us to be a part of something special. Now is that still true or _not_?" Mercedes was standing in front of Rachel giving her an ultimatum while Rachel tried her level best not to show them that her hands were trembling. She had gone through this with Quinn, whose opinion was far more important to her that that of the people in front of her, but being cornered was still frightening. This was ambush, and it wasn't fair. Rachel couldn't believe that they would do this to her. She was the one who had gotten Glee Club where it was. Sectionals would have been a total no show if she hadn't been there, and they wanted to kick her out for going out on one lousy date? Before Rachel could say anything, she felt someone storm past her and push her back. In the next moment she found Quinn standing in front of her, keeping Rachel behind with a hand on her stomach.

"You are all absolutely _unbelievable_. Can you hear how freakin' ridiculous you sound? _Sh_e," said Quinn, jabbing Rachel for emphasis,"has done nothing but the best for all of you. She's the one who actually got all of you here in the first place. She's the one who got you through Sectionals, and let's face it, she's the one with a voice to _die_ for. Where the fuck do you think you'll find a replacement for her, Kurt? On Broadway, maybe, but I really don't think anyone from there would work with a bunch of _imbeciles_ like you."

"Quinn, you don't understand, she's-" Artie tried to come forward, thinking that Quinn hadn't heard the entire conversation.

"Shut the hell up. Do you not _remember_ the fact that I live with her? I understand perfectly. You bunch of morons seem to have some idea that Rachel would go and do something to jeopardize our chance at Regionals. Well, if you had even a minute amount of intelligence, you would know that Rachel is the one person who couldn't do that even if she tried. God, are you really stupid enough to think that you can keep this club going without her?"

"Quinn, I believe that you've forgotten the fact that there are other members here who posses talent." Kurt was calmly sitting on one of the stools while the rest of the people came forward. He wasn't really too bothered about getting involved in this scene, because he knew that their threats were hollow. Rachel was their star, but giving her ultimatums was the only way to make her realize that they were serious about not having another disaster like Sectionals on their hands.

"No, I haven't because I'm one of those members. We're all great, Kurt. _I_ know that but Rachel's brilliant. _You_ know that. None of us have both her voice and training or, honestly, her dedication. We work well as a team because, in case you haven't noticed, she's the one taking all the responsibility so you guys don't fight over every little detail. You still manage to start inane fights and blame everything on her, but at least we get something done. Kick Rachel out, and you won't even be able to show your face at Regionals."

"While your lack of faith in our abilities doesn't astound me, I assure you we'll be in a better position without her than with her and the mole she'll bring with her."

"So it's final then - you or Jesse?"

"Hell yeah."

"Okay then. If Mr. Schue's able to hammer some sense into your skulls, you can come an apologize to us, 'cause that's the only way we're coming back to this club. Oh, and you can count Santana and Britt and Puck with us... So best of luck qualifying without twelve members."

With that, Quinn turned Rachel around, and practically hauled her out of the music room as the brunette tried to register what exactly had happened. She found herself being guided into the girls washroom, with Quinn expertly navigating the buzzing corridor, and it was only after they were safely inside and alone that she let her guard down and allowed the blonde to see how affected she was by the exchange with her teammates.

"They weren't supposed to do this to me."

"I know. They're just a bunch of morons. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. If it wasn't for you, they might not have let me out of there alive."

"Hey, we've proved that I can't live without your micromanagement." Rachel smiled at that, and almost immediately the smile turned into a scowl as she started crying. Quinn felt a bit out of place - she hadn't exactly been brought up in a nurturing environment. So she opted for just wrapping an arm around Rachel's waist as the other girl tried to control herself. Rachel kept mumbling "It's not fair" under her breath and Quinn's greatest desire at that point was to murder Mercedes, Kurt, Artie and Tina in the most painful way possible. She may not have her own popularity, but she did have access to the resources of the two deadliest people in the school - Puck and Santana. If those fucking nut-cases didn't get down on their knees and beg Rachel for mercy soon, she'd change her name.

* * *

"You did _what_?" Mr. Shuester was glaring down at the culprits with a mixture of anger and disappointment.

"Mr. Shue, we were only trying to help."

"Who asked you to? Guys, you cannot go behind my back and force one of our members to quit. That's not up to you. I get that you were looking out for the club, but you should have come to me first... How could you even think that Rachel quitting the club would be good for us?"

"We didn't think she'd actually leave," said Artie weakly, knowing how stupid that excuse sounded at the moment.

"Well, she did and so did half the others. You guys are the only ones left here... I just did not expect this sort of behavior from you guys. I'm not saying what she's doing is right, but that doesn't mean you don't give her a chance to correct her mistake."

"We did."

"Not by threatening her, Kurt. You did the same thing that all those football jocks do to you - bully you to try to get you to change."

"W- what now, Mr. Schue?"

"I don't know, Tina. I don't know... I'll try talk to Rachel, see if she's willing to come back. Given her dedication to this club, she might, but then she might not as well."

"And what if she brings Jesse with her?"

"Kurt, why don't we deal with one problem at a time? We won't even be able to enter the competition at this point in time, so let's focus on restoring our team and then I'll look into Jesse's motives as well. Now, you guys should probably go home. No point carrying on today." Mr. Schue picked up his briefcase and left the kids in the auditorium, none of them having any idea what was about to happen to them.

For the next few days, the weirdest things kept happening to the remaining members of New Directions. Their books would go missing, they were tripping all over the school, the slushie demand had risen rapidly, and they could never seem to get any place in the lunch line. Even Finn wasn't spared. But strangest of all was that Rachel Berry had some sort of a protective shield around her. She was completely exempted from all the crap the other kids were subjected to.

Santana had officially executed this great war, of course, and no one could comprehend why. Nor would they be able to find out, because Santana was the only one who knew that she was only doing what Quinn requested her to. Santana herself had been a bit put off by the way those kids had behaved. She did loads of terrible things but for her, team was team, and you didn't do things like that to your team members until Coach Sylvester bullied you into it. But even then it had taken some convincing from Quinn and coaxing from Brittany to make her give the final orders. After all, people would wonder why she was was protecting Berry of all people. But she'd made it pretty clear that anyone who asked her would be in her bad books. And tell me, who in their right mind would want to be in Santana Lopez's bad books?

After this behavior steadily escalated for almost a week, Artie finally managed to get Puck to tell him what on earth was going on. And that was why they found themselves running after Rachel and Quinn after school.

"Rachel, wait... We'd like to apologize to you for our behavior last Wednesday. It was hurtful and hasty, and we want to withdraw our ultimatum and invite you back to Glee Club."

"Well, I don't know, Kurt," said Rachel, her initial enthusiasm at their apology toned down by the sharp look Quinn gave her. They'd already had this conversation with Mr. Schue, and at that time Rachel had been very clear that she'd be unwillingly to come back at his behest when she knew that her team members wouldn't welcome her. "I would love to come back, of course, but knowing that I don't have the full support of my team members will no doubt stop me from performing to the best of my ability. I don't know how we'll be able to put everything behind us."

"Oh we will. You don't need to bother about that. Come back, we forget everything and you can do as you please as long as it doesn't affect Glee."

"Oh no, sissy boy," said Quinn, stepping forward when it became evident that Rachel's resolve was weakening. She'd made a promise to herself and she really didn't want to go through the trouble of finding a new name. "She's not coming back till I think you really feel this apology. So why don't you adjust those pants of yours and get down on your knees already. All of you. Down." She wagged a finger at them even as Rachel repeatedly pinched her from behind, trying to convey that all of the dramatics really weren't required.

"Are you _kiddin'_ me? There ain't no way I'm gettin' down on ma knees."

"Then there isn't any way of your getting through Regionals." Quinn was enjoying herself immensely as the old power rush gave her a wonderful high, and she knew that Rachel was too, despite the brunette's protests.

After giving each other shifty looks for a few moments, they finally conceded defeat and got down on the ground.

"Plead."

Kurt folded his hands and, still managed to look like a totally bored diva, said, "Oh your Highness, your loyal minions beg for mercy and forgiveness. Can we go already?"

Rachel grinned and nodded and Quinn, who then patted Kurt on the head. He pulled back from her hand with a horrified look, got up along with Tina and Mercedes and walked away, safe in the knowledge that they would rock Regionals.

On the other side of the school ground, Rachel squealed and captured Quinn in a bone crushing hug.

* * *

Reviews up the chances of Finn falling down a cliff.


	11. Chapter 11

**Title:** My Private Nation

**Pairing: **Quinn/Rachel

**Rating: **PG-13

**Spoilers: **Takes place after EP13 'Sectionals'.Contains major part of storyline up until Ep .18

**Timeline:** Two weeks later.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Glee, the songs, or even the characters.

**Author's Note: **Un-betaed, so point out typos.

* * *

Jesse walked around the props strewn on the stage of the Carmel High auditorium. The choreography for one of their numbers for Nationals had just been fine-tuned, and every member had been hard at work getting all the moves right. The juniors were supposed to be clearing the stage and setting it up for the next song, but they seemed to be running late for some reason. Poor little idiots. Stanley would probably impale them with his spit for a few hours. Jesse shuddered just thinking about it and thanked his lucky stars that Shelby had put him right on top when he'd joined the group. Because of his god-gifted voice, he didn't have to slog like the other kids who wanted to join Vocal Adrenaline.

Contrary to popular belief, not everyone in the Carmel High show choir had the voice of an angel. Other than the twelve 'leads' who formed the core of the group, most of them couldn't carry a tune to save their lives. There were some years where there were even less than twelve singers. Not one person outside of Carmel knew this, of course, since it was against the rules. But it gave Vocal Adrenaline an amazing advantage every damn time. No one from the competition knew who the singers were, and every time they'd to put someone out of action, they'd get their hands on one of the outer group, who were easily replaceable. The outer group was chosen by Shelby and Stanley every year for their looks, dancing abilities and stamina. The singers were obviously the most highly regarded and respected within the school, but on the outside, every member of Vocal Adrenaline was a star, and it was for this reason that people did manual labor to get in.

He made his way towards the wings, where Shelby would meet him. They hadn't had any time to talk since he'd taken Rachel on their second date. He smiled thinking of how perfectly it had gone; a peaceful evening spent at the side of lake, at one of the most secluded spots he could find. It was more private than their first date, which had taken place in a romantic but crowded restaurant. He was trying to move at a fast, but subtle and smooth pace with Rachel. He still had no idea what Shelby wanted out of her, but his own agenda was very clear. Since he'd seen New Directions perform at Sectionals, he knew that the competition this year needed to be taken care of in rather roundabout ways. And all the chat rooms buzzing with news of Vocal Adrenaline having met their match had only confirmed his conclusion. Rachel Berry was a piece of the puzzle that fell right into his lap. They may seem alike to anyone in a very general sort of way, but he knew that she was so much more vulnerable, naive and emotional than him. Stringing her along and then letting her go right before the competition would be the perfect way to ensure that they crushed New Directions.

The sharp click of heels behind him alerted him to the presence of his vocal coach and he turned just in time to see her whack one of her lackeys over the head with some sheet music. He smirked and waved to her as she looked his way and rearranged her facial expressions to something more pleasant. She muttered some instructions to one of the kids following her and all of them scampered off, most likely to get some costumes altered since Stan had made a few of the members lose more weight.

"Well? How's it going?" Just like her, straight to the point. One thing everyone seemed to simultaneously love and hate about Shelby was that she didn't bother with useless small talk, or useless anything, really.

"It's going wonderfully. We've only been on two dates so far, and I believe she's utterly besotted."

"I believe I asked you to _befriend_ her."

"I know, but you must understand that I had no other choice. You don't know her. Getting close to Rachel isn't possible by being her friend."

"You're right. I don't." Shelby had a slightly unfocused look in her eyes for a second, but it was gone as soon as it came, and she resumed the conversation. "So since everything is going so well, why did you need to see me?"

"There's a _tiny_ little problem." Shelby just stood there, waiting for him to get on with it. "The other members of New Directions have found out about us, and they haven't taken it so well. She's rather disturbed about it."

"Why? Are they making her break up with you?"

"Not anymore. They were threatening to kick her out of the club earlier, but apparently that girl she's living with took care of it. But there's still too much tension in the rehearsals. Apparently, it's interfering with her creative vibes. I think she's planning on breaking up with me."

"Stop her."

"But I don't know how. The only way to do that would be to convince her team members that I'm not a threat, which isn't exactly possible. They wouldn't believe me even if I joined their club."

They stood silently for a minute, while Shelby thought of how to get over this new hurdle. Every time, every damn time something had to come up. This time that something turned out to be her own daughter's sentimentality. The kids at New Directions weren't wrong in their thinking; she would have kicked out any student of hers who so much as breathed in the direction of a rival team. But this was different. This wasn't about some competition, or even about her. This was about Rachel, and so they couldn't be thrown off track.

"Maybe they won't believe you, but it will cement Rachel's faith in you, and it will also take away any reason they have to complain."

"Huh?" Jesse had made his last remark jokingly, and had almost forgotten about it. When he finally caught up with what Shelby was saying, his jaw went slack.

"Are you _serious_? You want me to join New Directions? Those bunch of wannabes?"

"Don't underestimate your competition, Jesse. It's a fatal mistake. And yes, I'm very serious."

"B-But I can't leave Vocal Adrenaline. I'm the lead vocal."

"Stop being silly. Of course you're not _leaving_. I'm simply sending you to them temporarily. Let them get a taste of talent. You'll be coming back before Regionals."

"No! I'm not going there."

"Excuse me?" Shelby gave him a calculating look, and Jesse's anger melted away. He knew very well that it only took one mistake to fall from grace, and he sure as hell wouldn't make it. Not when he was so close.

"Nothing. I just... what about the songs that we'll be rehearsing?"

"Don't worry about those. Our songs for Regionals have already been perfected, just keep practicing them, and you can do Nationals over the summer."

"Um, okay. So how's this going to work? It's not like they'll believe that I wanted to leave Carmel because of the boundless potential they possess."

"Well, I'll take care of the formalities involved. Your parents are in Bali, am I correct?"

"Yeah." They could be anywhere but Ohio.

"Fine. I'll get you transferred by the end of this week, stating something about living with an uncle, but you'll have to figure out how to convince the kids. I'm hoping my years of training will be put to good use."

"Yes ma'am." Shelby gave him a slight pat on the shoulder and walked away, and that is how Jesse St. James found some New Directions.

* * *

The rain was pattering down very hard on her bedroom window, and she stood with a mug of hot chocolate, absently watching the raindrops run down the glass. She slowly traced one of the patterns with her finger, and jerked slightly when an arm wrapped around her waist.

"Hey babe."

"Noah."

"You didn't come to school today. Thought I'd check up on my favorite girls," he said, patting her stomach lightly.

"Just morning sickness. Only mine seems to be an all day affair." She gave him a quick smile, moving away from the window and his embrace.

"Anything I can do to help?" Puck raised his eyebrow suggestively and the morning sickness suddenly returned with full force; only this time, it didn't have much to do with the pregnancy.

"You can get the hell away from me." She moved off towards the other side of the room, giving Puck an absolutely disgusted look.

"What the fuck is your problem, Quinn? Every time I even hold your hand you bite my head off," said Noah, his patience with his baby mama running out pretty damn fast.

"Why don't you _get_ the fact that I just don't want to be with you. This is the last damn time I'm telling you, and you'd better listen - I'm not going to be your girlfriend. Ever. God, Noah, I don't want to bite your head off, but you just don't know how to listen to me." Quinn had deflated a little by now, and she wasn't lying when she said that she really didn't want to hurt Puck. But there was no _way_ she'd be with him just to stop his feelings from getting hurt.

"You're such a freakin confused chick. You're having my kid. We're _perfect_ together, Quinn. Just stop being stupid and say yes."

"Stop being 'stupid'? Which world are you living in, Puck? This child was a drunk mistake that I wish had never happened." Quinn was shouting now, her anger and resentment finally surfacing. "I got kicked out of my house, my parents _hate _me, everyone I see either laughs at me or gives me this disgustingly pitying look. And I have to live with Berry of all people because no one else would take me in. I'm a social liability. I'm Quinn _Fabray _and I'm a social _liability_."

"I thought you liked living with Berry."

"That's not the damn point, you moron."

"I don't want to see the point."

"That's your problem. You never see the point. Just go around doing whatever it is that pops into your head and let everyone else deal with the consequences of it. Wake _up,_ Noah. We're not perfect together. We're not _anything_ together. It's just that right now I do need you around, because you're the only other person who is nearly as affected by this baby as I am. You're a good guy, Noah, honestly, but we're never going to be together. You have to understand that, or..."

"Or what?"

"Or you have to stop seeing me. You go be with any girl you like, I have no problem, but don't pressure me into being with you. I can't handle this right now."

"Fine." Puck walked out of the room, nearly knocking down Rachel and sending the jumbo sandwich in her hand flying down the stairs.

"Noah, what on earth?" Rachel said to his retreating back. He didn't look back and as she moved to pick up the mess littered all over the stairs. A few moments later there was a loud slam indicating that the dude had left the scene.

"What _was_ that?" she asked Quinn, who had come out and was watching the streaks of bacon regretfully. Rachel looked up when there was no answer, followed Quinn's gaze and smiled.

"Don't worry, Dads stocked half the fridge with bacon. And the chocolate mousse. Plus the french fries in the freezer." Rachel looked freaked out by the odd combination of foods Quinn had taken to gorging on, and Quinn stuck her tongue out. Being pregnant allowed her at least some leverage, right?

"But getting back to the current situation, why did Noah try to kick me down the stairs?"

"Nothing much. I sort of ended the relationship-that-never-was, told him he was an idiot and that this kid was a drunk mistake that never should have happened."

"Ouch."

"I know. But what's done is done. Now I'm hungry."

"Quinn, you're an absolute _pig_. How you managed to stay so thin with that appetite is beyond me."

"I'm eating for two. Plus, I never ate like this before. I was virtually on a liquid diet for years."

"So you're over compensating now?"

"I guess you could say so. You clean up this place, I'll clear the fridge."

"Try not to finish everything," Rachel called after Quinn. She'd taken to monitoring Quinn in the kitchen these days since the other girl had managed to finish a months worth of food in three days. But Quinn still got her craving satisfied by sneaking out of her room at midnight. Till Rachel busted her, that is. Seeing Quinn sitting on the floor in front of the fridge in her pajama's devouring fries dipped in chocolate sauce and ketchup like they were the greatest delicacies on the face of the planet made her resign herself to the fact that she wouldn't be able to make Quinn eat food like a normal person. So she decided to join in instead. Although she couldn't work up the courage to try the peanut butter coated chicken lollipop, the fries didn't taste _that_ bad.

* * *

"Quinn?" The rain had stopped, and although it had gotten dark, everything was looking a lot cleaner, like all the dirt had settled. Quinn was sitting at her desk after dinner, trying to get through at least some of the homework they had been given. She'd missed out on a lot of important chapters today, but really hadn't been in any condition to go to school in the morning.

'Hmm?" She was chewing one end of a pencil, not at all inclined to look up from the essay she was working on.

"What's your assessment of Jesse?"

"Um... He's okay, I guess. Why?" Quinn wasn't really concentrating on what Rachel said. They'd already talked this through, and there wasn't much Quinn could add to it, since she'd only met Jesse when he came to pick Rachel up. He used too many hair products, but that wasn't really worth mentioning.

"Well... He's kind of our newest member."

"He's moving in with us? Isn't that a bit fast?" Quinn smirked up at Rachel, her smile fading when she saw the other girl's stern expression. "Kidding... kidding... but what do you mean? What newest member?"

"Newest member of Glee Club. Really Quinn, must you be so dense?"

"Newest member of Glee Cub? As in the show choir group of _McKinley High_. And Jesse as in the senior from _Carmel High_?"

"Not anymore. He's transferred to McKinley."

"Have you been daydreaming again?" Quinn thought back to the time when Rachel had almost broken Quinn's nose by wildly flailing her arms around in the middle of a movie marathon session. They later discovered that Rachel had lapsed into a vivid fantasy where she was featuring as the lead actress in the movie they were watching. Since then, Quinn had been rather weary of Rachel's imagination.

"Quinn, I'm serious. Mr. Shuester introduced him in Glee Club today. His parents have gone somewhere and he's staying with his uncle." Rachel proceeded to update Quinn on everything that had happened in the club, gushing over how utterly romantic and perfect Jesse was being. Quinn's baby was grossed out.

"I don't know what to say."

"You're not happy?"

"I'm _thrilled_. If I wasn't pregnant, I'd be jumping over the moon."

"What's the problem _now_? He's changed his _school_ to be with me Quinn. Don't you believe him now?"

"Rachel, I don't know. I don't really know him well, so I'm not going to tell you that he's a horrible person who's using you, but I do know his parents. They wouldn't let him do this. I'm telling you, they're just like my dad. There is no _way_ they would let him transfer from the amazing prospects he had at Carmel High to our school. It makes me feel that there's more to this than you think."

"Maybe he managed to convince them that New Directions were way more promising than Vocal Adrenaline this year."

"Rachel, seriously? People like them don't get convinced. It doesn't work that way."

"Quinn, I _know_ that I'm this loser who wears _terrible_ clothes and has no fashion sense. No guy ever looks at me except to aim slushies and everyone thinks that I'm probably going to die a depressed, disillusioned, ugly old witch. But maybe there is someone who actually sees me as a real person, who sees that I do have thoughts and feelings. Do you think that I'm _so_ pathetic that there's no _chance_ any guy would like me for just me?"

"Rachel, turn off the drama queen mode for some time. You know damn well that that's not what I meant. Use your head. He's transferred here just a few months before before Regionals. I'm not telling you to dump him. Just be a little careful, okay?"

"Fine... Oh, and Finn asked me out again," Rachel tagged on as an afterthought.

"Finn did _what_? Was this before or after he met Jesse?"

"After."

"So he realizes you're in a relationship and then chooses _that very time_ to ask you out?" Quinn was shocked at the amount of audacity Finn was displaying. He'd been dating a string of cheerleaders since dumping Rachel without even so much as bothering to look her way, and now suddenly he wanted her back? She'd seen Rachel cry over that idiot way too many times to let her fall back into his arms even if Rachel wanted to.

"Pretty much, yes."

"So what did you say? Please, _please_ tell me you slapped him. Or Jesse punched him or something." Rachel laughed at the truly sincere expression on Quinn's face. Quinn, on the other hand, was totally serious. The only time Finn ever seemed to express any interest in Rachel was when he needed something done or when someone else was interested in her. The guy was nice, but he was a bit too immature. 'I can't be with you, but I can't let you be with anyone else' seemed to be his motto in life, and she really thought that a girl like Rachel could do so much better. Even with her dress sense.

"No I didn't _slap_ him. I didn't get much time to do anything, actually. Jesse made it pretty clear that I was taken."

"You're not 'taken'. You're dating a guy. There's a difference."

"You know what he meant."

"No, Rachel. I'm serious. Being protective of you is one thing, but just make sure that he knows you have some independent will. You're his girlfriend, not his _dog_."

"Quinn, relax. Why're you getting so worked up about this?"

"Because I don't want you ending up like my mom. You deserve better than that."

"Quinn, why are you always so against your parents? They seem to have done a fair enough job with you." Rachel briefly thought back to her 'conversation' with Judy Fabray, but tried not to judge the woman based on five minutes of knowledge.

"You have this fantastic family. You won't get it."

"Maybe I will. Not everything is as perfect as it seems." Rachel gave Quinn a tiny smile, shrugging her shoulders.

"Rachel, your family is perfect. For me at least."

"I know. My dads are pretty awesome. But they are dads. It might be nice to have a mom once." A look of understanding crossed Quinn's face, and she bit her lip, covering Rachel's hand with her own. She thought about the baby she would be giving up, and couldn't help but wonder if she too would have the same thoughts as Rachel when she grew up. It made her feel a little guilty, thinking of a faceless child who was longing to find some sort of way to connect with the woman who'd given birth to her. But she knew that keeping this baby would be so much worse.

"Haven't you ever tried to find her?"

"Not really. I wondered sometimes. But my dads never said anything, and I'm afraid that asking them might hurt their feelings."

"Why? It's not like you want a replacement for them or anything."

"No, of course not. But forget about my anonymous mom. Let's talk about yours."

"Yeah, my dysfunctional mother over your M.I.A one. Sure. Although there's not much to tell."

"Still..." Rachel prodded, hoping Quinn would trust her enough to tell her.

"She... is basically someone who has no free will. I know my mom loves me and that she'd probably even have kept me in the house after finding put about the baby. In fact, that's probably why she pretended to be so oblivious - she knew what Daddy would do if he found out... But when he did, she didn't go against him. Never will... And the alcohol is just the icing on the cake."

"Haven't you ever tried to talk to her about it?" Quinn gave Rachel an ludicrous look. Then she realized that Rachel would have no idea about how people behaved in a house like hers.

"We don't talk about things like that, Rachel. Ever. We talk about the food, and the weather and stuff... When I came to your place, it was like some sort of culture shock for me. But it's wonderful. The way you guys live is just so much... healthier. And that's why I'm telling you to assert yourself. I don't care how many people think you're too aggressive, I know you're not. Just make sure you don't end up in the same crappy existence as half the housewives I've met."

"Don't you think that you're looking a bit _too_ far into the future?"

"Says the girl who has her life planned out on a Microsoft Excel Spreadsheet. Complete with a power point presentation."

"I'm computer savvy."

"So am I, but do you see any document titled '10 Year Milestones' on my laptop? I don't think so."

* * *

On the other side of town, Shelby was watching a recorded version of New Directions performance at Sectionals. She had a note pad in her hand, but hadn't written a single word. It had been going on this way for over two weeks. Watching Rachel perform, and perform exactly the way she herself used too, was too overwhelming for her to do anything but sit and watch. Although she'd seen the video so many times, she'd still find moments to rewind and watch again and again just to catch the expression on Rachel's face as she hit a particular note.

She'd realized quite some time back that the Rachel she'd left was not the one whom she'd be meeting. She'd come back to this hell hole just to see if she could maybe get one more shot at the family which she had so easily thrown away. But it looked like the family she'd imagined never even existed. Looking at Rachel, she knew that she was a complete stranger to this girl, and the thought terrified her. For her, the first and only connection she made with her daughter was the crying, red baby that she'd seen for the briefest moments, and she'd never really been able to understand the fact that by the time she got back, that baby had grown up.

Shelby had come back with a mental picture of a little baby girl in mind. Unfortunately, Ohio hadn't exactly frozen over in all the time that she'd been away. Rachel had grown up, and neither of them had ever known a single thing about each other. It would be naive to think that they would theatrically run into each others arms, proclaiming their love for each other. Shelby didn't have those expectations, not except for in a very small corner of her mind, and all she was hoping for was some sort of a functioning, healthy relationship with Rachel. If not as a parent, then maybe as a friend. Now if only she could get Rachel to see eye to eye with her.

There was no way she could openly approach Rachel. Even if they bumped into each other, she was legally bound into not revealing her identity. Damn Samuel Berry. That guy had drawn up a water-tight contract. They could sue her for everything she had if she tried to talk to Rachel. And it's not like the girl would have some coincidental flash of insight and just realize that Shelby was her mother until she had some prodding from the side.

Choosing Jesse to help her may have seemed like an odd and rather stupid choice at first, but it had actually required a lot of careful planning. Shelby knew that the only way to get Rachel on the right track was to get one of her friends to help. Problem being, she had no friends. And that boy, Finn, seemed a little to lost to be of any help. Jesse was the perfect choice. Not only was he marginally more mature than any of his peers, he was also completely under her control. Jesse depended on Shelby not just for coaching, but also for guidance. She didn't have any children, and his parents were useless. He respected her, looked up to her, and was the only one of her students whom she felt she could trust with something like this. Not to mention the boy's utter desperation to get out of Ohio and never look back. If he would do exactly as he said, then his place in UCLA was secure. He wouldn't go against her, simply because he needed that recommendation way too badly.

He had gone a little off track by getting Rachel romantically involved, but that couldn't be helped. Shelby would have preferred that he be friends and only friends with her, but she saw his point; gaining Rachel's trust and getting a glimpse into her thoughts would be much easier this way. Now that he was involved, Shelby couldn't exactly monitor his every move. It was up to him to gauge and deal with situations to the best of his would try her best to make sure that he didn't hurt Rachel - revealing the reason for this entire charade might do the trick. Maybe once Rachel got to know of the entire situation, she herself could explain to the girl why it had been necessary to introduce Jesse into her life and that they'd never meant to deceive her. He could apologize to her, bow out gracefully,and then she'd get Rachel and Jesse would get his plane ticket out. First Class.

* * *

The next day, Rachel strolled down the halls of McKinley High with her head held high. She knew that all the whispers in the corridors concerned her and Jesse, and the thought made her smile a little bit. Every person in school was flabbergasted at the news that Jesse St. James had jumped ship just to be with the Queen Bee of Social Retards. Even though the show choir group at McKinley was laugh worthy, Vocal Adrenaline had an excellent reputation. They got cars as thank-you gifts, why the hell wouldn't they have a reputation?

A lot of speculation was making rounds. Some people thought Jesse had been bitten by a mad dog, others thought that Rachel was paying him, and almost everyone thought that no matter what the background, he was there to spy on New Directions. Not that they cared either way, but it was good gossip. And even if he was here to play with Berry's heart, he did still elevate her social status considerably. Girls were actually jealous of Rachel, and trying to figure out why he'd chosen her of all people. Even the Asian would have been better.

"Look what we have here." Dave Karofsky stood in front of Rachel, two of his buddies surrounding her from the other sides. He sneered down at her, and wiggled the slushie he had in his hand, making some of it drip down the sides of the cup.

"So Berry, heard you're getting hitched to the Jamie Boy. What're you now, his gay beard?"

"While I'm absolutely _astounded_ at the fact that you actually managed to form a grammatically correct sentence, I do not appreciate your implication that my boyfriend is gay." Karofsky looked at both his team mates, and judging by their expressions, decided that they hadn't understood a word of what Berry had just churned out. Whatever.

"Come on, boys. Time to give the new it girl a makeover." Just as he started to swing the cup, a hand grabbed his arm and pulled it back.

"Excuse me, but I believe you're hounding my girlfriend."

"Dude, are you calling me a _dog_?"

"No, dude, I'm asking you to back off." Jesse smiled at Karofsky, letting go of his hand. He wrapped one arm around Rachel's waist, and tucked the other in his pocket.

"Yeah? What'll you do if I don't, disco dancer?"

"Oh, I don't think it'll get to that."

Dave nodded to his friends, and a moment later, Rachel felt a familiar cold sensation washing over her body. She didn't even get time to open her eyes before Karofsky was pinned to the ground, Jesse on top of him, twisting his arm behind his back.

"I asked you, didn't I? I asked nicely." Dave tried to get up, but felt a knee digging into his back sharply. "If you, or any of your cronies get near her again, there will be _hell_ to pay. Clear?" When he got no reply, Jesse twisted Karofsky's arm harder, getting the boy to nod swiftly. Dave felt the pressure behind him disappear. Jesse got up and nodded in the direction of the remaining jocks who had their mouths hanging open. He looked around for Rachel, but she had already encased herself safely in the girls restroom. So much for not needing new clothes everyday.

A few of the glee clubbers were standing at the end of the corridor, watching the entire drama play out. When they had seen Karofsky surround Rachel, they had headed her way to try to help, but soon realized that their intervention would not have been nearly as effective as Jesse's had been. They were glad that someone was finally sticking up for the girl. She was an annoying twit, yes, but still, she wasn't so horrible that she shouldn't have at least someone to watch her back. Maybe St. James wasn't as terrible as they'd first presumed. He had, after all, risked suspension and probably a few broken bones just to protect Rachel. He had to feel something for her, right? By the end of the day, an unofficial truce had been declared. The Glee Club had accepted Jesse as one of their own.

* * *

Because there had already been so much commotion, the crowd around Karofsky dispersed quickly. None of them wanted to be chucked around the hallway. That was why no one saw him being pulled into an empty classroom as he stood muttering curses. Not one single person other than the stupidest jock in school got to see the rebirth of Quinn Fabray, Head Bitch In Charge.

"What the fuck are you doing, Fabray?" Dave was pissed as hell at being humiliated in front of everyone by such a huge sissy, and was just plain weirded out by the ex-Cheerio dragging him into a classroom. This day was so odd.

"Davie, Davie, Davie... You'll never learn, will you?" Quinn gave him a sickly sweet smile and moved across the class, stopping at one of the benches and casually leaning on it.

"Huh?"

"Hasn't it been clearly mentioned to the entire school that Berry is off slushie splash duty?"

"How the heck would you know about that? It's not like you're even anywhere on the food chain anymore." She tilted her head, acknowledging his point.

"True, I'm not. But a few friends of mine are. You remember Santana, right? And Puck? The two people who have been threatening and beating people into submission since they were in first grade." Karofsky swallowed at the mention of Puck, but still held his ground. Quinn Fabray was old news now. She couldn't actually do anything.

"You think I'm dumb? Santana's on top, Fabray. She ain't taking no orders from you anymore."

"Fair enough. She is on top. That's why you should have listened when she told specifically told you never to slushie Berry again. Too bad you didn't."

"Yeah, but I know she won't do anything. I mean, this is Lopez we're talking about. She has better stuff to do that defend Berry's honor." Dave started smirking, thinking that he was pretty much in a safe zone, and that this little Blondie had no idea what she was talking about anymore.

Quinn hoisted herself off the desk and moved in front of Karofsky. Even though she was shorter than him, she had perfected the art of looking down at people a very long time ago.

"Here's the thing, bozo - I have a lot of free time on my hands. So although Santana may not have time for Rachel's defense, I sure as hell do. And you know what good friends I am with Brittany, right?" She continued to smile at him, managing to look utterly terrifying at the same time. Quinn took one step closer, getting right in Dave's face and forcing him to step back in an almost defensive way.

"What Jesse did to you was humiliating, and you deserved it. It'll be forgotten in a few days, after everyone has a good laugh first. I'm willing to leave it at that. But if I ever so much as see a slushie within ten feet of Rachel, I won't even look at who's holding it or what they're doing. I'll assume it's you and that you plan to chuck it at her. And then the things I'll do to you won't humiliate you... Oh no, those things will make you wish you were never born. Do yourself a favor, and keep slushies away from Berry. Later, loser."

No one could figure out why Dave Karofsky took to spontaneously redirecting people with slushies in their hands, all the while muttering "Ten feet, ten feet, ten feet."

* * *

**Kyra** - Thank you so much. And I swear I want to get R/Q in bed together as well. But what can we do? The assholes of the world get in the way.  
**D** - Here's another chapter.  
And thanks a lot to** normalab, rawrimadinosaur, Frankie, Anon, slayergirl17** for the reviews on earlier chapters.


	12. Chapter 12

**Title:** My Private Nation

**Pairing:**Quinn/Rachel

**Rating:**PG-13

**Spoilers:**Takes place after EP13 'Sectionals'.Contains major part of storyline up until Ep .18

**Disclaimer:**I don't own Glee, the songs, or even the characters.

**Author's Note:**Un-betaed so point out errors.

* * *

Rachel was lying on her bed, her laptop perched in front of her. The damn thing was taking just about forever to upload her next Myspace video, and she really didn't want to go to sleep without getting it done. While she was thinking of composing a letter of complaint to the owners of the website and the manufactures of her laptop, there was a soft knock on the door. It was so soft, in fact, that she didn't even hear it at first. It was only when the person knocked again, more forcefully, that Rachel pulled herself out of her personal rant.

"Come in."

Quinn walked in, shut the door behind her, and perched herself on the edge of the bed. She fiddled with her hair for a few moments while Rachel stared at her, and finally said," Rachel, I need to speak to you. _Now_."

"Then why don't you?"

"I'm trying. Shut up for a minute."

"Okay." Rachel smiled slightly at Quinn's antics and got back to her laptop. A second later, it was slammed shut. Forcefully.

"Quinn! What the heck? You'll damage my laptop."

"I said I needed to talk, and you're surfing the net?"

"You said you needed me to shut up for minute. So I did. I will _kill_ you if my video has gotten wiped." Rachel tried to open the laptop, but Quinn's hand was still firmly on it, holding it down.

"Fine. I got the message. Let's talk, then."

"Rachel... when... um, when did you... Okay, I'm sorry if this is too personal or anything, but we live together now, so I guess it should be okay. And there is absolutely no one else who would have any clue about what I'm saying." Apparently living with Rachel had rubbed off on Quinn.

"Quinn, currently even I don't have any clue about what you're saying. Why don't you try completing the sentence. I'm sure whatever it is isn't too personal. Unless you're asking if I'm transsexual or something. I'm not, by the way." Rachel got a bit worried when Quinn didn't even respond to the lame joke. Since they'd established a tentative friendship, Quinn had become a lot less uppity. She'd often laugh her head off at random comments Rachel made, and even the sarcasm came without bite.

Quinn took a pillow out from under Rachel, propped it against the headboard and lay down in the most comfortable position her baby bump would allow. She plucked another pillow from near the headboard and hugged it to herself, resting her chin on it and refusing to look at Rachel. After she was finally settled after some shuffling and a kick at Rachel which may or may not have been intentional, she said, "When did you find out that you had a mom?"

"Oh. So that's what you want to know about? Hold on a minute." Rachel got up and peeked out of her room. Seeing that her dads were safely shut in their room and hopefully asleep, she shut the door and came back onto the bed, this time following Quinn's example and propping herself against a pillow on the headboard. She leaned slightly into the taller girl, who thought surprised, wrapped one arm around Rachel's shoulder. Maybe this wasn't a great idea. Sentimentality was something Quinn still hadn't gotten too used to.

"I didn't ever find out exactly, till sex-ed class. When it became excessively clear that two men couldn't have a child without help no matter how hard they tried, I figured out that there must have been a mom somewhere in the middle."

"Are you serious? You were never, I don't know... curious? When you saw all the other mommies?"

"Well, I was. But you see Quinn, I was always a very intuitive person. I just knew that I shouldn't ask my dads. When I was about ten or something, some of the girls in a higher class told me that my dads were freaks and that they'd probably kidnapped me from somewhere. They said that you couldn't have babies without a mom and a dad. After that, I just tried not to think about the whole parentage thing."

Quinn knew about that incident. Her sister had been in on it and she knew very well that those girls hadn't just teased Rachel - they'd tormented her. Grace had come home that day and narrated the entire incident at dinner. Her father had been thrilled that his daughter had put that Berry girl in her place while Quinn sat there wondering what the fuss was about. The only part of it she really understood was the fact that Grace has troubled some girl called Rachel who was in the same class as Brittany, and that her dad had liked that. Maybe he'd like it if she did it as well. Maybe he'd like her more if she did it worse that Grace. The next day, Quinn ever so subtly knocked Rachel's books down in the middle of the corridor and went off without apologizing. And then came tripping her up, then shoving her out of the lunch line, and finally openly throwing a slushie on her face.

"Quinn... is that all?" Rachel looked up at Quinn, since the other girl seemed to be lost in her own world.

"Huh?... No, sorry. I was just thinking. You always seem so happy with your dads and stuff. So you don't ever miss your mom?"

"I don't know my mom or anything about her. It's a bit hard to miss someone you don't know, right?"

"But you've seen other people with their mom and dad. Didn't you ever want a family like that?"

Rachel thought for a moment before replying. "No, not really. I mean, I'd love to know my mom, but I can honestly say that I never, ever wanted any family other than mine. When the other kids used to tease me about my dads, I'd come home and Daddy would make me forget about all of it in about five seconds flat. And then there'd be the parent teacher meetings. You know how busy Dad is, but both of them would still somehow make time to be there for that, and for all my competitions. I could count on one hand the number of children in my class who's parents were even together. When I think of all that stuff, I'm really, really glad that my dads are who they are."

"So you don't wish your mom had kept you or something."

"Quinn, you're an idiot. _Ouch_... Don't pinch me, I mean it. You are a moron. My situation is not the same as yours. Why don't we talk about what's bothering you instead of analyzing my life?"

"Why is it that you're so good at changing the topic whenever we come to your mom?"

"That is not true."

"Is too."

"I am _not_ engaging in the ridiculously childish game of 'is too, is not'. Even your unborn child wouldn't do that."

"You just proved my point."

"Oh for God's sake, _fine_, you want to know? I'll tell you. I hate not having a mom. Not because I need another parent or some nonsense along those lines, but because I don't know her at all. There's always this air of mystery around her, and I hate that I don't even know her name, or why she agreed to have me. I want to know whether she did it out of charity or because she just needed money. Whether she even wanted to keep me, or if I was just a means to an end. My dads can't carry a tune to save their lives, and I used to lie awake at night for years wondering how my mom's voice was, and if I sing the way she does. If I look like her, or act like her, or dress like her."

"Hopefully not."

"See... This is why I don't talk to you about anything. You always make fun of me." Rachel made a move to get up, but Quinn stopped her.

"No, no... I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I'm just not very used to talking to other people about feelings and life and things like that."

"Obviously."

"Rachel..don't sulk. It doesn't suit you."

"Whatever."

"Rachel... please."

"No. Let me _go_."

"Oh shoot. The baby kicked."

"Really? Let me see." Rachel immediately dropped her diva face and flopped back down on the bed, both hands positioned on Quinn's stomach.

"Kidding."

"That was low, using your baby like that."

"Oh shut it, Berry. We would only have argued for an hour if I hadn't done that."

"Noted. Now tell me why you're so nervous that you actually approached me for advice without anyone holding a gun to your head."

"I'm not nervous," Quinn said, faltering a little at Rachel's disbelieving look."No, really, I'm more... anxious, I guess you could call it."

Rachel just nodded and got herself comfortable again;this time propping up her pillow over Quinn's feet and resting her arm on it so that they were facing each other.

"It's just... when I found out I was pregnant, it was horrible. I prayed so hard for it to not be true, and when I was sure that it was, I seriously debated getting an abortion. In the end, I just didn't have the guts to go to one of those dingy clinics. So I thought I'd somehow manage to just hid the baby from my parents till it was born, and then donate it or whatever to someone who wanted to just get it off my hands. I know it sounds stupid, and a bit mean."

"_Bit_?"

"Okay, lot mean. But it's not the same now. I've just started having these thoughts and feelings, and when you were avoiding the topic of your mom yesterday, I just couldn't stop thinking about it."

"It?"

"The adoption. When I give this kid up, I'm not going to even be able to see her again. You have all these questions about your mom, and I'll have them about her. It's so _weird._ I didn't even want any of this, and now that it's happening, I don't know how easy it'll be to give her up."

"Quinn, that's a perfectly normal part of human nature. Your psycho-"

"Shut the hell up, Berry. I don't care what thesis you've written on human emotions, I don't want to hear it. This _isn't_ normal. I'm not supposed to be one of those stereotypical Lima losers. I had a plan. I was going to get good grades, be popular, go to a good college, get the hell out of this crazy town. This wasn't part of it. I'm knocked up by the crappiest guy in town and now I'm thinking of keeping the baby. This isn't normal, and this isn't me. This isn't who I am."

"No, this isn't who you _were_. Quinn, I'll be honest here and tell you that you were one of the most _terrible_ people I've ever had the misfortune of striking up an acquaintance with. You were the embodiment of cruelty, sarcasm and sadism. I know _exactly_ what your dreams were. And I also know that you would pretty much have squashed anyone who got in the way of them, this baby included. But that's not you anymore. Quinn, you _need _to accept the fact that you've gone through such enormous changes in the last few months that you don't have the same thoughts and plans as before."

"I want _that_ me back. I want to be normal again."

"Quinn, the way you're behaving makes me think of someone who's caught some sort of terrible, incurable disease. 'I want to be _normal_'," said Rachel, mimicking Quinn's tone perfectly."You were _never_ normal, or even ordinary. It's just that you were completely devoid of emotion earlier, and now you have too much of it. You never learn to do things halfway, do you?"

"Hello pot. Been talking to kettle?"

"Ha ha. Even your sense of humor isn't halfway. It's pathetic."

"Kinda like your nose."

"There is nothing wrong with my nose."

"Hmm... other than the fact that it's too big, too bulbous, too off-center... Yeah, other than that it's perfect." Rachel's face had been getting redder and redder with every adjective.

"Oh.. so my nose is to my face like your hair is to your body."

"What? My hair is absolutely perfect. People lust after my hair. How the hell can you compare my hair to your stupid nose?"

"Look at it... it's so _thin_, and... and useless. I doubt if blond's even your real hair color."

"Rachel!... That's not fair. Have you seen the rest of my family? We're all like walking balls of sunshine."

"So?"

"_So_ if you'd ever studied anything other than sheet music you'd know about a little something called genetics, which decided that my hair color would be blond."

"Hey Quinn, can I tell you a story?"

"Um...sure." Quinn was a bit surprised that Rachel actually asked for permission before launching into one of her rants.

"There was a girl. She was _so_ blonde," said Rachel, a huge smile spreading over her face, while Quinn groaned at hearing the word blonde,"that she got locked in a _grocery_ store and _starved_ to death."

"Urgh... God, couldn't you be a bit original?"

"That she tried to put M&Ms in _alphabetical_ order."

"I _swear _I will find some Jew jokes."

"If you gave her a penny for intelligence, you would get change back."

"Are you the encyclopedia of all things useless?"

"That she tripped over a cordless phone."

"Berry...I'm warning you. Shut up."

"That she took a ruler to bed to see how long she slept." Rachel was already tripping over half the words she said because she was laughing so hard, and Quinn buried her face in her pillow, mumbling 'shut up, shut up, shut up.'

"That..." Rachel couldn't say another word. She just clutched her pillow to her stomach and collapsed over it, laughing louder than she had in a loud time. Quinn eventually looked over at her when she had gone on for more than a minute, shaking her head disbelievingly.

"You are unbelievable. Completely and totally nuts."

"And you're _blond_." Rachel snorted and collapsed into peals of laughter again. Quinn looked at Rachel, and couldn't help but laugh along with her at Rachel's crazy antics. Even though they'd been living together for nearly two months, she'd never seen Rachel unwind so completely. Sure, she didn't spew out dictionaries when at home, but she was still a little anal. Hardly what you could call relaxed. And never, ever so free. Quinn thought that it would be rare to see Rachel like this again, and forgave her for the blonde jokes. If it made her this happy, then why not?

It went on like this for a few minutes. They were both laughing like lunatics, not able to stop. Although there was nothing really funny, and Quinn absently noted that she was laughing at herself, they just couldn't help it. When one would stop laughing, she'd just have to look at the other to start again. It was one of those strange moments when you just needed to laugh it all out, when you felt drunk on happiness for no apparent reason. When they finally got a hold of themselves, more to breathe than anything else, Rachel collapsed on the bed, still smiling slightly between occasional pants of breath. After a few moments, Quinn let out a sigh and both of them felt a shift in the atmosphere.

"I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"Of her growing up and hating me."

"That's not going to happen."

"You don't know that. She'll know that her mom was some cheap trollop who didn't even have the guts to keep her. And that'll only be if she ends up with a nice family. What if I give her to people like my parents or someone worse who'll make her life hell? She'll resent me and hate me and they'll all tell her horrible stuff about me. Rachel, I can't have my own kid hate me. Everyone else does enough of that."

"Oh Quinn... That's not true. No one hates you. Well... Finn may not trust you, and Noah is a bit resentful of you, and maybe... But anyways, the point is that absolutely no one hates you. "

"I've treated all of you like shit since the time I can remember. You should hate me."

"You're right, we should. But I already told you, that you're not that person anymore. Quinn, you've grown up a lot in such a short time. All of us see that. You're going through the hardest phase in your life, but you haven't become bitter or resentful. Angry maybe, but overall, you've actually become a much better person from the time when you have a perfect life. So please, please stop thinking that anyone hates you. Especially your daughter. When she grows up, she'll be thankful for the fact that her mother was sensible enough to let her have the life and facilities that she couldn't provide. We'll pick out an amazing family for her; people who really want her and love her, and who'll let you see her grow up if you want to. She'll be grateful, Quinn."

"So you don't hate your mom for not being there for you?"

"Why does it all come back to me? I told you, the situations are different."

"I want to know. Please."

Rachel took a deep breath, and finally said,"No, I don't hate her. She helped two people have a child that they really wanted. Even if she did it for herself, that's still doing something most people wouldn't agree to. I wish she would come to meet me sometime, but even if she doesn't, I really don't hate her at all. I have a certain image of my mom in my head. If I meet her, I'm scared that she might not live up to it. So in a way, I'm glad she hasn't come."

"If you-" Quinn was disrupted by the sounds of 'Endless Love' filling the air. Rachel looked towards her phone and smiled. Apparently Jesse now had his own personalized ringtone on her cell. Rachel excused herself and left the room while Quinn sat there cursing that idiot's sense of timing.

* * *

"Bye Rachel. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow." Jesse cut the call and looked out of his bedroom window. He hadn't lied when he had said he was living with his uncle. Jesse was pretty damn used to living with a different relative every few months as his parents traveled all around the world for various conferences and meetings. He couldn't for the life of him figure out why the hell they were still living in Ohio since their business was based in New York and they could more than afford to live their. Maybe it was because of the limitless people willing to take care of him while they were away. Like they were bothered anyways.

Alexander and Lily St. James were two very well renowned architects. They were both highly specialized in their own fields and had managed, in a relatively short span of time, to establish offices in many of the major cities around the world. As a result, they weren't at home for the better part of the year. Alexander had always known how hectic life would be, and didn't want to add a child into the mix. But their parents from both sides had put an immense amount of pressure on them, and they really didn't have much choice in the matter of having their own child. Some nonsense about the heir to the family name. Alexander had always found that line of reasoning to be flawed, and although he tried, he had never developed a great amount of liking for Jesse. Love, yes, but not liking. On the contrary, he resented the boy for becoming yet another time consuming distraction in his path to success. If he had had his way, he would have created such a legacy for himself, that they would never need an heir to carry on the name. There would be great structures world over carrying his name. But then Jesse had to come in and consume precious time. He always gave his son the best care and resources, but never managed to give him much in terms of affection.

* * *

_Jesse was ten years old and alone at home. His parents had a business party to attend and the nanny was unavailable for the night. They had left him alone with a clear sets of do's and dont's, promising to be back as soon as they could get away, which might well turn out to be near midnight. He had watched all the cartoons he could, and his eyelids were drooping of their own accord as he sat on the sofa. It was nearly ten in the night, and he had already washed his face a few times to ward off sleep. Jesse had a fear of the dark and of sleeping in the big, empty house. He thought that if he fell asleep and no one was watching him at home, then maybe someone would sneak in and whisk him away into the night and he'd never get to see his mom and dad again._

_As the clock ticked by, he started hearing sounds. The kind of soft, creaking sounds you hear in an old house, especially when your senses have been sharpened by a slight fear. He thought he heard someone on the stairs, and then a rustling of the windows. Then there were a few pitter-patter sounds of water droplets. He got up and quickly went from one room to another, closing all the windows and turning on every light he could find. He turned on all the three T.V's in the house, including the one in his parent room, and took the phone with him up to their bed. He curled up on his mom's side of the bed, and hid himself under the blankets, holding them tightly to himself. Even with all the light and noise in the house, he didn't feel safe. That feeling, of not being safe and protected, or even wanted, in his own house, continued to grow over the next few years. He did everything he could think of to become more noticed, more appreciated, and to become an asset rather than a liability._

* * *

_"Dad."_

_"Hmm?"_

_"We won Nationals. Second time in a row."_

_"That's nice, Jesse. What would you like?"_

_"Nothing. I just thought you'd wish to know."_

_"Well, yes, it's nice that you won that little competition. Why don't you tell your mother? She'll like it."_

_"Mom's not in town. She'd gone to Mexico."_

_"Oh, yes. I nearly forgot... Well? Is there anything else?"_

_"Yeah. I got the highest grades in my year. In every subject."_

_"Did you? Good. I suppose we'll have to come for one of those award ceremonies?"_

_"I'd like it if you did, but you don't have to."_

_"Thank goodness. I have the most hectic schedule for the next month." Alexander got back to his newspaper, and Jesse walked out of the room after a few moments._

* * *

_Jesse came home elated. He had won Nationals yet again, and had also managed to secure a spot on the football team. Seeing as how his father was a sports fanatic, this had to catch his attention. He bounded up the stairs towards the study, not paying attention to the ruckus he was creating._

_"Da-" his words died on his lips as he saw his father with the phone in one hand and a frown directed towards Jesse._

_"No, I'm sorry, Ruth, but the profit margin is much too low. Yes, yes, we'll get them. Just make sure that they know who has the power. I'll call you when I have the draft. Goodbye." Alex slammed the phone down and ran one hand through his hair._

_"Is everything ok?"_

_"It's all fine. Now would you care to explain why you created a miniature thunderstorm and disrupted me?"_

_"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I can come back later, if you want."_

_"No. Now that you're here, might as well say it. Fast, Jesse. I don't have much time."_

_"I got selected on the football team."_

_"Really? So you've decided to quit that singing group?" Jesse had withstood so many snide remarks his father made about show choir. He never responded, nor did he quit, because he knew that it was where his true talent lay._

_"No, no... I'm doing both."_

_"If you say so. Is that all you needed to say?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"Such things can wait for dinner, Jesse. You should know better than to disturb me like this. Now go do your homework or something."_

_"Yes dad." Jesse got the hell out of the study before he threw the trophy in his hand on his father's head. Shelby wouldn't appreciate that. He went to his room and took extra care to slam the door shut as hard as he could get away with. He sat on his bed, tapping his feet and trying to control the simmering anger building inside him. All he really wanted to do was to go up to his father and throw away everything even remotely related to his work. He wanted his father to look at him as if he was important, as if he actually meant something in his parents lives._

_He wanted to shout and scream and rage, but he knew that it would get him no where. He settled instead for burying down every bit of anger and resentment he had towards his parents and focusing all of that energy into his activities. He mastered the art of keeping a cool, sneering mask on his face at all times, no matter what the situation. Jesse knew that the only way to get out of the shadow of his father was to eclipse him. The only way to get noticed would be to shine so bright that Alexander would have no option but to look at him. And he would do that. He would show all of them that he was better than they thought - that he was better than them._

* * *

"Um.. Hi Rachel." Finn leaned against the row of lockers, giving Rachel what was supposed to be a charming smile. In reality, it just made him look like a moron.

"Hello Finn. I'm sure that you wish to discuss the assignment that Mr. Shuester has given all of us, as you probably have _no_ idea which song to pick. Although I am delighted by your enthusiasm towards Glee, I would request that we do this at some other time."

"No, that's not it. Rach, I was kind of wondering if you wanted to go bowling with me sometime?"

"Go _bowling _with you?" Rachel gave him a pointed look.

"Yeah. You know how it was so totally awesome when we went the other day, and I was thinking it'd be cool if we went again."

"Just the two of us?"

"Yeah."

"Finn, I'm not quite sure how to make you understand this, but I'm in a committed relationship with Jesse now, and I'd really appreciate it if you ceased your inappropriate advances immediately," said Rachel firmly. She would never have reacted to attention from Finn in this manner if it hadn't been for Quinn, who'd drilled it into her head that Finn Hudson just could not fit into her envisioned future.

"But Rachel, why won't you give me a chance? I just want to go bowling with you. As friends."

"Finn, it's my belief that I've given you enough chances. You have repeatedly proved that you think of me as nothing but a obnoxious, over-bearing, silly girl who would do anything for you. I spent such a large amount of time waiting for you to reciprocate my emotions, but it seemed like there was no chance of that. So I've moved on. I suggest you do the same." Rachel didn't look at Finn while she spoke, and didn't see how shell-shocked he was at being told off by Rachel. No matter what he'd done, she'd always been there for him, even when he himself had shooed her away. No. Rachel couldn't be saying stuff like this to him. That wasn't possible.

"I know it's my fault, and I know I hurt you. I'm so sorry, Rachel. But I promise I won't ever do it again. You can't give up on us. Not for some creep you met at the bookstore."

"That 'some creep' happens to be my boyfriend."

"I won't give up this easy, Rachel. We're gonna be together."

"No, Finn, we're not. Listen to me, for once. I still see you as a boy who could possibly grow into a good friend, but I harbor no romantic sentiments for you, and you must accept that if we are to work together. I'm sorry, Finn, but you're not allowed to treat me like the back up plan you keep running to when no one else wants you. I'm allowed to be happy. In fact, I deserve to be happy. A good friend reminded me of that not too long ago."

"Don't run back to me when he breaks your heart." Finn turned to walk away when Rachel stopped him.

"I know that you will most likely avoid me or give me guilt inducing looks for the days to come, but before that happens I'd like to thank you for what you said to Karofsky. It was very chivalrous of you."

"Huh? I haven't said anything to anyone."

"Finn, don't be modest. He's been running like a scared kitten whenever he encounters me in the hallway. Although I know that what Jesse did bothered him, I also have it on good authority that Jesse will be suspended if he ever gives a repeat performance, and Karofsky is well aware of that. At first I was under the impression that Noah had stood up for me, but since he was absent on that particular day, the next choice was you. After all, there's no one else I can think of who would have the power to control Dave."

"Listen Rach, I have no clue what you're going on about. I need to go to practice. Later." And Finn walked off, leaving a thoroughly confused Rachel behind. She stood there for a few moments wondering where the flaw in her deduction lay. She had meticulously narrowed down a list of people who might actually be even remotely willing to help her. There weren't many to begin with and some of them, like Tina and Artie, didn't stand a chance. She'd briefly considered Quinn, but then quickly discarded the idea. The girl was pregnant, cranky and stripped of her throne. She wouldn't risk hurting her baby or her already tattered reputation by confronting Dave and sticking up for Man Hands. Noah might do such a thing, since he'd genuinely come to like her, but as stated, he wasn't in school. Finn was the only person left. Unless, of course, Karofsky had been abducted by Broadway-friendly aliens who didn't want any harm coming to the future star. But even Rachel didn't believe that was possible.

Kurt stood watching the entire interaction between Finn and Rachel. Initially, he had been observing his knight in a football jacket shuffle around the corridor. His curiosity had been aroused when he'd seen Finn go towards Rachel, and he'd moved closer to hear the conversation. After all, if Finn and Rachel were secretly getting back together, emergency measures would have to be taken. He had been so relieved when Rachel had rejected Finn. He did, of course, feel bad for Finn, but he could hear the logic in what Rachel said as well. Finn was perfect for him, but he really hadn't treated Rachel well. Finn was flitting between so many girls because he was obviously not feeling satisfied with any of them. He clearly needed to be with Kurt, but was too naive to see it. But all that aside, Kurt couldn't help but wonder at Rachel's utter stupidity. Not that he'd ever tell her, but the girl was actually rather smart and he hadn't expected her to come to such an odd conclusion. Time to clear things up before she got all hung up on Finn's supposed bravery.

"Rachel, when will you stop being blinded by your supposed brilliance?"

"What are you doing here? Weren't you supposed to be skipping class to go to that shoe sale with Mercedes?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but that's tomorrow. Now, as I was saying, are you completely oblivious to what's in front of you or do you just not wish to acknowledge it?"

"Kurt, I honestly have no idea what you're saying. If this is about the solo then I'll-" Kurt held up a hand to silence her.

"It's not about the solo, which I _assure_ you I'll be getting. No, this is about Karofsky."

"Do you know what's the matter with him?"

"Quinn Fabray is the matter with him. Rumor has it that she's threatened to castrate him if she sees a slushie within a ten feet radius of you. Hence the odd behavior."

"That's not possible." Rachel didn't exactly have much faith in what Kurt said after the disastrous makeover episode, and she was afraid he was trying to play some sort of practical joke on her. Not that Kurt was usually the practical joke type.

"I don't care which diva handbook you use Rachel, but you are never to question my information. I have well placed sources all over the school. I assure you that Quinn is the sole reason for Karofsky's terror. I'm not forcing you to believe me, but it's true." Kurt waltzed off, hoping to catch a seat near Finn in English, not hearing Rachel's disbelieving whisper of, "Quinn?"

* * *

Now be nice and poke that little button below. Go on.


	13. Chapter 13

**Title:** My Private Nation

**Pairing: **Quinn/Rachel

**Rating :**PG-13

**Spoilers: **Season 1

**Timeline: **One week later. It's now 2 months after Sectionals. Since I couldn't get precise info, I've assumed that Sectionals and Regionals are 4 months apart, and Quinn was sometime over 4 months pregnant during Sectionals.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Glee, the songs, or even the characters.

**Author's Note: **Un-beta-ed for now so feel free to point out errors.

* * *

Santana Lopez was confused. And that was not a normal state of mind for her. Sure, some of the things Britt said puzzled her like hell, but she had learnt not to dwell on that stuff too much. Except for the gay sharks thing. Talk about quotable quotes. But anyways, getting back to the Latina's current state of mind; she couldn't figure out what the hell was up with Q. Granted, the girl was knocked up and subject to occasional bouts of crazy, but her recent behavior wasn't crazy. Dude, it was freakin' unbelievable.

Quinn Fabray had gone all cave bear mommy on Rachel effing Berry of all people. Rachel Berry, as in Man Hands, Treasure Trail, Ru Paul Berry. Come on, couldn't she have chosen someone else to go all mushy on? Like maybe the other Asian, or even that Peppery chick. But no, one of her oldest friends had to chose the most irritating, obnoxious, unpopular kid in school. Why though? That was the million dollar question, and she had every damn intention of getting the answer. But for now she had every damn intention of getting to the gym before Coach Sylvester started praying on Brittany.

* * *

"So what are you going to do about Kurt?" asked Quinn, briefly glancing up at Rachel, who was perched against a tree trunk. Quinn herself was laying on the grass, not too bothered about the grass stains on her dress. They'd come down to the park after an intense blackmail session from Quinn. She'd been shocked at the fact that Rachel wasn't an outdoor person. She'd expected the other girl to have her Girl Scouts badges all firmly in place, but apparently Rachel Berry was a bit of a couch potato. Quinn, however, needed her little bit of sunshine, and dragged Rachel out on the pretext of it being good for the baby. She'd found that her daughter was a bit of an easy manipulation tool.

"Huh?"

"Haven't you heard? He sprained his ankle. Got caught up in the stampede, apparently."

"Idiot. I _told_ him. I categorically warned him of the dangers of those insane one-day sales, but no. Kurt Hummel had to try to prove his superiority. Moron... Is it too bad? And how's Mercedes?"

"I don't know about too bad, but it'll definitely keep him away from the next performance. And Mercedes is fine. She wrestled with practically everyone who was there. ICU must be full."

"_Quinn_... Don't be mean. She's really not that terrible. And I thought the two of you were becoming friends."

"We are. She's been shockingly understanding about my whole situation. It's a bit weird, being friends with the two of them. But still..."

"But still what?"

"Well... she's a bit dominating, if you know what I mean. Like the other day, she just declared that I was going to be moving in with her."

"She _did_ WHAT? The _nerve_ of that little - Urgh... just because the two of us weren't exactly the best of friends doesn't mean that I'm locking you in a room and torturing you. _You_ don't think I'm torturing you, right? Because I'm not forcing you to reside with me or anything. You have every right to- to find another place of residence." Rachel had shifted from her comfortable position and was now hovering over Quinn, worry evident in her eyes.

"Shut _up_. Rachel, she asked me over a week ago. Haven't seen me packing my bags, have you? When will you believe the fact that I actually enjoy living with a deranged banshee?"

"But why would she ask you? The _obvious_ reason is if she thinks that you are under some sort of stress, or living with me is having an adverse effect on you. Quinn, are you positive that everything is fine? You really don't have any issues with me or my dads? Has anyone said anything to you? You can -"

"Whoa, hold it. Firstly, you ask too many questions. Secondly, there is absolutely nothing wrong. Honest."

"Are you -"

"You ask me that one more time and I will move out."

"Sorry. But can you at least enlighten me as to why Mercedes Jones offered you alternate housing facilities?"

"Rachel, she wasn't trying to offend you or anything. She just thought that we weren't really great friends and that it might be easier for me to live with someone I hung out with."

"Will it be?"

"No! I know that we don't really talk in school or anything, but I _do_ actually consider you my friend. Way more than Mercedes. I mean, I've been awful to you for such a long time, and you've turned out to be the most understanding person in my life." Rachel blushed a little at the unexpected compliment. She'd talked to Quinn about a lot of things, but they never talked about each other specifically, even after living together for over two months.

"You know how Mercedes had starved herself for the Cheerio's. I know what it's like to be in that place. To look in the mirror every second and see a million flaws screaming out at you. Coach Sylvester didn't help much either. It's weird, but when Mercedes wasn't even popular, she was one of the most confident people I knew, and now that she's on the squad, now that she has an affirmation of the fact that she's great, she's having doubts about herself."

"When you're not popular, there's no one to look at you as you walk past, no one to bother about the way you dress or talk. We're the invisibles. We're not expected to be thin or stylish. She's a Cheerio now, and that title comes with an immense amount of pressure. The entire school is after her to look and act a certain way, and so much peer pressure can get a bit tough."

"Don't I know it. I was on a new diet every week to lose just one more pound, get one size smaller. And with all the exercise we got, it was crazy. I know for a fact that half the squad survives on steroids."

"And you?"

"I was there. Occasionally. Now that I think about it, it seems so long ago. I can't even put myself in that girl's shoes anymore. It's like I lived two different lives - before and after."

"This is _exactly_ why I don't subscribe to drugs. Except for that disastrous mash-up routine, I have never polluted my bloodstream with foreign toxins. We're all subjected to stress, and I prefer to take care of it the natural way".

Rachel smiled at Quinn, giving herself a little pat on the back for not succumbing to peer pressure. She was just thinking about how her daily elliptical routine helped in energizing her when she caught the look on Quinn's face. The blonde was looking up at her with a disbelieving expression; mouth open, eyebrow raising, and something resembling embarrassment visible on her face. Rachel couldn't comprehend the look at first, and when she did...

"_Ewwww_... Quinn! I didn't mean ... God, I wasn't... I wasn't talking about _masturbation,_" said Rachel, whispering the word in a distinctly embarrassed tone. "Eww... Not that it's a bad thing. It's a perfectly acceptable and healthy form of relaxation, and I would prefer it infinitely to drugs... DON'T look at me like that. I was talking about exercise. You're the pervert here." Quinn looked indignant at the word.

"Me! Excuse me, little Miss. Girls-want-sex-just-as-much-as-guys-do. The way you go on about it, what the hell was I supposed to think?"

"_I_ am a normal person. _You_ were the President of the _Celibacy_ Club. How on earth did you even survive there with such a one-track mind?"

"I DO NOT have a one-track mind."

"Try telling that to someone who didn't just have this conversation with you. But don't worry, I've heard that pregnancy hormones tend to increase arousal levels dramatically. You're probably just frustrated."

"Okay. This conversation ends right _now_." Quinn had gone a bright red, refusing to look at Rachel, and very, very close to getting up and running away; preferably to some place very far away. She wasn't used to conversations that got above PG-13 with anyone. Never had them, never wanted to.

"There is nothing to be embarrassed about, Quinn. I realize that you have grown up in a rather... repressed household, but that doesn't mean that-"

"Berry, seriously. Enough." Quinn scoured her brain for anything at all to distract Rachel, otherwise she might get a visual presentation on self-pleasure aids. "Sonogram."

"Excuse me?"

"Sonogram. I have a sonogram day after tomorrow, and I'd rather not take Puck. Can you come with me?" That was totally off the bat. Puck would probably kill her for this, since he had made sure that he found out about every appointment weeks in advance and cleared his entire damn schedule for the day.

"Of course. But why isn't Noah going to be there? He is the father, after all."

"Yes, Rachel, I think that I'm aware of that fact. But we're not too cool around each other right now. He's... he's just a seventeen year-old boy. I needed someone to lean on and he was there, but I sort of forgot that he's still an immature idiot who's brains are in his pants. I don't want to hurt him or deal with his shit right now."

"If that's what you want. But I still think that you should give him a chance. He shouldn't be cut out of her life just because of this."

"My baby, my choice... I'm not cutting him out. You can deliver the DVD to him if you want. I just don't want to see him for some time. You don't get it, okay. He actually thinks that we can keep this baby and be a family, together. Not only would I not want that life for my daughter, but I just can't imagine myself with Puck. Ever."

"I can't blame you for _that_. But speaking of the baby, what are you planning to do? I mean, your due date is fast approaching, and you haven't yet decided on any adoption agency or anything."

"Actually, I've already spoken to Sam. He said that he'd fix up an appointment sometime next week with the best agency he knows. I'm thinking of probably going for an open adoption. Get to know the people, and maybe stay in touch occasionally."

"That's a wonderful idea, Quinn. At least your daughter will know that you're actually bothered." Rachel's voice had a distinct note of resentment in it which surprised Quinn, considering that it wasn't one of Rachel's primary emotions.

"Don't be like that. I'm not saying I know your mom or anything, but I do know that she didn't just up and leave. She knew you'd be with these people who would do everything in their power to make your life perfect."

"Yeah... anyways, speaking of babies, have you picked out a name yet? Because you _have_ to decide a name before she's born."

"I don't think I have to pick one. Won't her parents do that?"

"Not necessarily. Since you're thinking of staying in the picture, and meeting the parents beforehand, you can always suggest a few names."

"I don't know. Picking out baby names and clothes and stuff is getting a little too attached, if you think about it."

"Quinn... just stop _thinking_." Both of them snorted at the sheer absurdity of Rachel Berry asking someone not to think.

"Well, you know that I've always got plenty of people giving me lists of names even if I don't think of any myself. Maybe I'll just take all of them and wait till she's born. Then we can decide."

"Absolutely _not_. Don't you know that a baby has to be named before it's born? Otherwise she'll come into the world with an inferiority complex. Imagine lying in the nursery with all those screaming bundles and not knowing your name when all the others have lovely little name tags attached. She _needs_ a name."

"_Okay_, okay... Umm, I haven't dwelt on it much... You have any suggestions?"

"Barbra."

"No."

"Angela."

"No."

"Idina."

"No. And no more Broadway related names. You're almost as bad as Finn."

"Why? Did he suggest some sort of pizza topping?"

"Close. He wanted to name her 'Drizzle'. She's a kid, not a weather description."

"_Hey_! That's cute. Not as a name, obviously, but as a nickname or something. Drizzle... I _like_ it," said Rachel, leaning over and patting Quinn's stomach."Hello, Drizzle. Not to worry now, baby. All those mean little brats in the hospital can't bully you anymore." She bent down and placed a little kiss on the place where she felt a bump, presumably Drizzle's head or hand, not conscious of her action. Quinn didn't even say anything, trying to digest the fact that Rachel had just had a conversation with her unborn daughter about 'mean little brats'.

* * *

"Sh-She's your... _daughter_?"

"That _is_ what I just said." Shelby watched as Jesse took in the news, running a hand through his hair and looking around the room.

"So that's why you've done all this? Not to psych the competition or anything like that?"

"Jesse... of course not. We never resort to such petty methods to win. Honestly, I'm not too worried about New Directions. They have potential, but _desperately_ require polishing. I sent you for one purpose alone; to bring Rachel to me."

"You make it sound scary. Why can't you just go up to her and introduce yourself?"

"What part of 'binding legal contract' do you not understand? I can't contact her till she's a legal adult, and that's too long a wait. Which is why you need to get this tape to her."

Jesse stood still for a few moments, trying to get his head around this piece of information. Shelby was doing all this to get closer to her daughter, not the lead singer of their competitor. No wonder she hadn't wanted him to start dating her. Shit. This would basically derail every idea he had of messing with her. She wasn't exactly terrible, as he'd come to see in the past few days, but she wasn't that great either. It might have been a bit fun to knock her down. But now, now he had no clue how he'd proceed. Considering the elaborate planning she'd done to be able to just talk to Rachel, Jesse didn't think she'd take too kindly to him stamping on Rachel's heart.

"Okay. I'll do it. But you need to give me a little time. I can't just hand it to her. Let me see if I can slip it through somehow."

"You do that. Just make sure that her fathers don't get to it before her."

"Of course. I've got to go for Glee now, so if there's not anything else..."

"Bye." Jesse smiled at Shelby and turned to leave when she stopped him.

"Don't think I don't know you. If you hurt her, I will_ chop_ your body into little pieces and bury them in a pigsty. Then, when I die, I'll haunt your ghost." Somehow, the look in her eyes made him believe every word she'd said.

* * *

"_Hell_ no, Mr. B. You should have seen the look on Finn's face when Jesse walked in. That boy ain't getting it easy, don't you worry about that." Mercedes was having a wildly animated conversation with Sam about Rachel's numerous suitors, while Kurt was sitting at the other end of the table with Joseph, discussing the anti-tan effects of tomato juice. Rachel and Quinn were just trying to finish dinner without getting whacked by either of the two chatty divas. Not that Kurt hadn't almost poked Quinn's eye out a few times.

The day after Rachel had gotten to know of Mercedes' concerns about Quinn's well-being, she'd invited Mercedes and Kurt to her house for dinner, just to show them that there really was no torture chamber in her house. She hadn't been too keen on Kurt, but knew that Mercedes wouldn't agree to come alone. Surprisingly, though, they'd hit it off really well with her parents, who were thrilled at meeting people from Rachel's school that hadn't made her life hell. Both Kurt and Mercedes had enough sense not to bring up any of the more... unpalatable incidents that happened in school, and for all their show of despising Rachel, were wonderfully open and friendly with her parents. Kurt was happy to have found a man who shared his skin concerns, and Mercedes was all for a proud black dude. And although Sam was playing nice, Joseph wasn't above using Mercedes loose tongue to his advantage. After getting her comfortable, he was easily getting loads of information about Rachel from her. Not that Rachel was oblivious, but she couldn't do anything but exchange frustrated looks with Quinn.

"Joseph, it's been _so_ wonderful meeting the two of you today, but I'm afraid we really must be going. My father expects me home in half an hour, and I need to drop Mercedes off as well."

"He's right. I didn't realize it had gotten so late. Today was _awesome_, Rach. You guys need to come over to my place sometime." Saying that, Mercedes and Kurt got up, and all of them headed to the door, feeling a bit lazy after the huge meal courtesy of Quinn. Promising to drop by soon, they left, and Rachel fled up to her room, not too eager to undergo her dad's interrogation. Sam and Quinn went to clear the table and Joseph was heading up to his study when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it." He opened the door to an unfamiliar face.

"Is this Rachel Berry's house? I was looking for Quinn Fabray."

"Yeah, she's here. Quinn, someone at the door for you. I'm sorry, but what did you say your name was?" He tried to place her, but was pretty sure he hadn't seen this woman around, and she sure as hell wasn't Judy Fabray.

"I'm-"

"Who is it?" Quinn had come down and was just a few paces behind Joseph. She locked eyes with the woman standing at the front door, who waited for the pieces to fall into place.

"Prue?"

* * *

I love my cliffhangers.. but then I love my reviews more.


	14. Chapter 14

**Title: **My Private Nation

**Pairing: **Quinn/Rachel

**Rating: **K+

**Spoilers: **Takes place after EP 13 'Sectionals'.Contains major part of storyline up until EP18.

**Timeline: **The day after C15

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Glee, the songs, or even the characters.

**Author's Note: **Un-beta-ed for now so feel free to point out errors. Happy Reading and please R&R. Reviews are my lifeline. They also encourage me to write faster:)

**kahlin420 **pointed out to me that the end of the previous chapter and the start of this one didn't tie together.. at all. So I haven't changed much of the text, but shuffled the scenes so that they make more sense. Hopefully.

* * *

"Prue?" The corners of the other woman's eyes crinkled in a smile as she nodded. Quinn stood still for a moment before flinging herself forward and nearly crushing the older woman.

"Oh my God! I haven't seen you in, what, four years? Where the hell have you been?" said Quinn, taking a step back to observe the woman standing in front of her.

"Quinn, let her come in at least." Sam was amused at the spectacle in front of him.

"Oh, shoot. I'm so sorry. I totally forgot... Come in." She held the door open for Prue, who just shook her head negatively.

"Sorry kiddo. I'm a bit rushed right now. I just landed and I need to get to the office, but I wanted to see you first anyway."

"No fair... Prue, you're always working. Come on, just a few minutes?" said Quinn, making the best puppy faces she could as Rachel stood there, speechless at this new side of Quinn. Puppy faces?

"Not working," said Prue. "You're not five anymore, Quinn. Sorry... But maybe we can meet up tomorrow evening? I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Um... yeah, sure. Where?"

"I'm staying at Wingate. You know where that is?"

"I have no clue," said Quinn, her knowledge of most parts of town rather pathetic.

"Well, I do and it's very far from here," said Sam. "If it's alright by the two of you, why don't you just come over for dinner tomorrow?" Quinn looked over at Prue, who shrugged her approval.

Rachel kept her curiosity under wraps with great difficulty till the time Prue left, but the moment the door shut behind the older woman, she rushed up the stairs after Quinn, almost bursting with questions. They never really spoke about their personal lives much, and never about Quinn's family, so this development was pretty huge for her.

"You look like you're going to explode," said Quinn. "Just ask already."

Who is she, how d'you know each other and how come she's suddenly just turned up? Why were you behaving like an infant in front of her?... Oh, and what sort of a name is 'Prue'?"

"What's wrong with 'Prue'?" asked Quinn defensively. "You get called Rae-Rae, for crying out loud! But anyway, her name is actually Prudence, and she's a cousin of mine from my dad's side... We're actually pretty closely related, but they weren't ever around as much as everyone else. Dad always said there was something odd about them... I never really figured out why, 'cause I used to have such a blast with them. Out of everyone, they were the coolest, hands down. Maybe that's why no one liked them."

Quinn stared off into space, smiling at the fond memories. She really had ended up having tonnes of fun with the Halliwells - getting on Grace's nerves, bugging the neighbors, just kiddish things she could never do with her prim and proper friends or her sister. Phoebe was always the best, but Prue was the most protective - she always kept Russell off their backs.

"And plus, they lived far away, so there were only really the family get-together and occasional holidays and stuff. When their grand-mom's health deteriorated, there wasn't any of that either, so they drifted apart from the rest of us... Well, no, they didn't. I remember Phoebe calling once or twice, but I don't think the rest of my family was all that interested in keeping in touch with them. I suppose I should have, 'cause we were pretty good friends, but..."

"But your parents wouldn't have liked it?"

"Yeah... Am I that obvious?"

"It's not about being obvious, Quinn. Staying with you for an extended period of time has-"

"Berry, I wasn't asking for a psychological analysis."

"Oh. Sorry."

"I'm used to you now. You and your compulsive need to overstate." Rachel whacked Quinn lightly on the arm for that, smiling for a second before turning serious.

"I wonder what she wants?"

"We'll find out tomorrow, won't we?"

* * *

_Noah was walking down the halls of McKinley High, watching other kids duck away from him in sheer terror. He was almost as bad as Sue Sylvester and like her, reveled in the power rush he got seeing the fear in all those idiot's eyes. Life was good. Granted, Quinn had turned him away more times than he'd like to count, but there were always the fifty girls falling in line to console him. And he was sure that even she would come to her senses eventually. That is until he got to the choir room._

_Puck had his hand on the doorknob when he heard a sound that he'd almost forgotten. Quinn was laughing; actually, whole-heartedly laughing. He hadn't heard her laugh like that since their food fight, and for a moment his chest tightened in jealousy. Who the hell was making her sound so happy? But then he heard another voice, one he'd gotten accustomed to in the past months - Rachel Berry. Well that was okay then. Again, it was okay until he walked into the room and almost screamed. That's right, Badass Puckerman actually got close to making a high-pitched sound._

_His future dream wife was leaning on the piano, and the freak of the school had her arms wrapped around said future wife's waist. They were leaning into each other, so close that their lips were almost touching. And maybe they would have gotten closer if Puck hadn't come in. As it was, they flew apart, but Quinn still kept her fingers entwined with Rachel's, tightening her grip on the brunette to stop her from moving further away._

_"Noah," said Rachel, glancing at him guiltily,"What are you doing here so early?"_

_"What the hell , Berry? I ask you to help and you get your paws all over my girl?"_

_"She is not your girl, Noah. I believe that Quinn has made it abundantly clear that she's not interested."_

_"Yeah, because you got her all gayed up."_

_"Don't talk to Rachel like that."_

_"Why not? Damn it, Quinn. You're straight. You like dudes, not Man-"_

_"Zip it, Puckerman... No seriously, do not call my girlfriend that or I'll tell Santana about Holly." Quinn had been so absorbed in defending Rachel that she didn't notice the little slip she made before she turned to Rachel and saw a light blush on the girl's cheeks. She bit her lip and looked down, not sure of what to say. She knew exactly how serious she was about Rachel, but they hadn't actually made anything official._

_"Girlfriend?"_

_"If you want to be." Instead of bothering to answer, Rachel chose to pull Quinn in for a delicate kiss. She traced her girlfriend's face with the tips of her fingers, delighting in how the word sounded in her head. Quinn Fabray. Her girl._

_Quinn responded eagerly, forgetting their audience and pulling Rachel closer into her, still a little awed at how different kissing Rachel felt. But before the kiss could deepen, they were interrupted by a strangled coughing sound. They separated yet again, more than a little irritated._

_Quinn's face colored from the tip of her chin to the roots of her blonde hair when she saw the look Puck was giving them. She turned and buried her face in Rachel's soft locks, willing the moron to melt into the ground. Quinn could feel Rachel's smile against her cheek, and it made her feel a little better about the situation. But now all her chances of romantic, walk-on-the-beach proposals were ruined. Oh well, she'd make sure that their marriage announcement wasn't like this._

_"Well, Noah, I believe we've effectively cleared all your doubts regarding the status of our relationship. Can I assist you with anything else?"_

_"Who else knows?"_

_"No one, yet. We wanted to explore our own feelings without being subjected to external pressure and expectations."_

_"I think you're doing a damn thorough job of that. How long?"_

_"Noah, really. Must you be so inquisitive? But to answer your question is about a month. It was all rather sudden, actually. As you can imagine, this relationship wasn't something either of us anticipated, but it's been rather wonderful so far." She gripped the blond a little harder and dropped a kiss on her forehead._

_"Make him go away. Please, it's embarrassing," Quinn whispered to Rachel, not willing to see Puck drooling at them._

_"Aw... Baby, it's okay. I promise I'll keep him in check. Come on, you can look up." Quinn just nuzzled further into Rachel's hair, shaking her head negatively and inhaling the lavender smell of her girlfriend's shampoo. God, she couldn't stop saying it. Girlfriend. Rachel was finally her girlfriend. And so much more._

_"Hell no, Berry. I'll just sit here and be real quiet. You two can just go on with whatever you're doing." He winked at Rachel and went to sit on one of the stools._

_"Pig,"murmered Quinn, finally looking up. "But Rachel, if he wants a show... I guess we could oblige. I mean, this has got to be tough enough for him. A little moral support wouldn't hurt, right?"_

_"Poor Noah... You're absolutely right, Quinn." And without wasting any more time, Rachel pushed Quinn up against the piano once again and proceeded to pull the taller girl in for a kiss, tangling her hands in Quinn's hair. _

_Just as Quinn was working up the courage to pull Rachel's sweater off, Finn burst in to the room. Puck was going to pound him for his horrific timing, but before he could do so, a huge mail van came in behind Finn, breaking the door. Finn stopped to look at Rachel and Quinn for a moment before rushing ahead, shouting, " Mailman, mailman!" What the fuck?_

_Quinn was now explaining the mail significance to Rachel while the other girl tried to control her breathing. Brittany came in through the shattered door frame, carrying a huge blow up doll of Santana, and started whacking Puck on the head with it._

_"Get off me, you crazy bitch!"_

_Now the blow up doll started screaming at him._

_"You're late. You're late. You're LATE." Why did that sound like his mom?_

_Puck opened his eyes to see his mother standing over his head, a sweat shirt in her hand._

_"Noah, get up. You'll miss school." She threw the shirt on his face and left to give his sister the same treatment. Damn, it had all been a dream. One hell of a hot dream, but a dream all the same._

* * *

Noah was walking down the halls of McKinley High, watching other kids duck away from him in sheer terror. He was almost as bad as Sue Sylvester and like her, reveled in the power rush he got seeing the fear in all those idiot's eyes. Life was good. Granted, Quinn had turned him away more times than he'd like to count, but there were always the fifty girls falling in line to console him. And he was sure that even she would come to her senses eventually. That is until he got to the choir room.

Puck had his hand on the doorknob when he heard a sound that he'd almost forgotten. Quinn was laughing - actually, whole-heartedly laughing. He hadn't heard her laugh like that since their food fight, and for a moment his chest tightened in fear. What if his dream hadn't been a dream after all? This fear compounded when he heard Berry's voice as well, and he opened the door, bracing himself.

The sight in front of him disappointed and relieved him at the same time. Rachel was chasing Quinn around the room while the blonde ran ahead of her, some papers in her hand. At the noise, Quinn got distracted and turned toward the door, which led to her tripping over one of the metal rods on the floor. Even as Puck's hands instinctively shot out, Rachel caught Quinn from behind, steadying her.

"Quinn! I _told_ you not to run around. What if you'd fallen? The third trimester is always the more risky in terms of shock related injuries to the fetus."

"But you caught me, didn't you? So just relax. I'm fine. You're 'lyrics', however... Well that's a different story." And she held the sheets of music high above her head, much to the shorter girl's dismay, who jumped and jumped in vain. Quinn was just too damn tall.

"Noah, help me." He just shook his head, laughing and wondering why the hell she was so concerned about sheet music. And then Quinn started reading.

"I want you to miss me when you sleep. Feel my-" Rachel snatched the sheet away before Quinn could get any further, her face an indescribable shade of maroon. "Sexy poems. I bet Jesse _loves_ that."

"Shut it, Fabray."

"What'll you do if I don't, midget?"

"Natural ways, Quinn. _Exercise_, you know?" At those words the blonde immediately deflated, looking around shiftily.

"Whatever."

"I'm sure that both of us can come to a consensus. We'll never discuss either of these things again. Shake?" Rachel extended her hand, which Quinn took immediately. She had no desire to ever bring that conversation up again, especially in front of Puck. And luckily enough the bell rang at that moment, and she escaped as fast as humanly possible.

* * *

Rachel turned the key in the lock and got in, Quinn following behind her. They were both completely wiped out; with mid-terms and Regionals coming up, the work load was getting crazy. Rachel was a bit worried about Quinn. She could cope up to a certain extent, but Quinn seemed to be getting more and more tired. She'd tried to talk to her about it, but Quinn insisted that she was absolutely fine. With the morning sickness fading, she had been getting more sleep, but the pregnancy was zapping her of her energy really fast. But no way in hell would she admit that. Quinn Fabray was always on top.

Quinn was heading to the kitchen when Rachel stopped her.

"BLT?" Quinn nodded, and then shook her head.

"I need to do a little stuff for dinner as well. Might as well get it out of the way."

"Nope. You're having one of those grilled, dripping in cheese sandwiches, and we'll manage to survive for a day without your cooking. I'll get the sandwich, you go up and change."

"Rachel, it'll only take a minute."

"I have a minute. Quinn, I saw you at practice today. Your eyelids were drooping. Please go up. I'll do it." As if to collaborate with Rachel, Quinn felt a huge yawn come on which she just couldn't suppress. She held her hand over her mouth, waved Rachel's comments off with the other and trudged up the stairs.

Rachel walked into Quinn's room about ten minuted later only to find the girl curled up against a pillow, fast asleep, with a few strands of hair falling over her cheek. She hadn't even bothered to take her shoes off.

Rachel set the plate down and went up to Quinn, removing her sandals, earrings and letting her hair loose. She tried to shift Quinn into a more comfortable position, but the other girl simply clung tighter to the pillow and shrugged Rachel off. She smiled a little at Quinn's antics and covered her up, closing the blinds to stop the glare from coming right on to Quinn's face. She was glad that Quinn had finally stopped fighting her body and was getting some necessary rest. She needed to get Sam to talk to Quinn.

After taking one last look at the sleeping girl, Rachel made her way down the stairs. She'd have to wake Quinn up soon. After all, it was _her_ cousin that was coming for dinner.

* * *

Joseph had been nice enough to cook something today, since he really didn't want to serve take-out to a guest and Quinn was lost to the world, but he'd been getting rather distracted by his daughter pacing the kitchen for the past half an hour. This was normally her MySpace time, so seeing her down was not only unusual, but also a bit irritating, owing to the click-clack sound of her shoes.

"Sweetie, any _particular_ reason you're trying to get athlete's foot?"

"Daddy! You're interrupting my creative flow. Do you_ realize_ how crucial it is for me to be able to brainstorm in a clear and concise manner?"

"I'm terribly sorry for disturbing you but the thing is, I think the floorboards are cracking. Care to share?"

"I'm simply worried about the duet we've been given this week. Jesse got paired with Artie, and his incessant whining is managing to get on my nerves. As a fellow performer, I sympathize with his predicament, but he really should just step up and make the best of it. Artie isn't a bad partner if you just know how to work with him. And then Mercedes. God, I swear that she has managed to attain a Ph. D in the art of irritating me. I really didn't think it was possible to lose my temper so quickly in such a short span of time. Honestly Daddy, if this torture goes on much longer-"

"Honey, why don't you come and taste the sauce? I'm not sure it has enough salt." As Rachel's rant was brought to a momentary halt, Joseph tried to figure out how to get the real reason out of his daughter.

"It's fine, Daddy. I'm sure everyone will love it."

"Great. Isn't it nice - Quinn finally having at least one supportive family member?"

"Yes," she said curtly... Oh. So that was it, then.

"I'm so glad that her cousin tracked her down," said Joseph. "I mean, Quinn has really become a part of our little family, but still, it'll be better for her to have a real family member around."

"Daddy, I think I have some homework left. Let me go and check."

"Wake Quinn up while you're at it," said Joseph to Rachel's retreating back. Living with the two of them, Joseph knew that Rachel had become more than a little possessive about Quinn and also very attached to their arrangement. The arrival of someone from Quinn's family who wasn't hurling abuses at her had thrown Rachel off a little, and he just hoped she'd get over it.

* * *

Rachel returned to the room to find Quinn as fast asleep as she had been earlier. Seeing the girl with such a content expression on her face almost made Rachel turn around and leave her in peace. But it was late enough already and Quinn would probably throw a hissy fit if she didn't get enough time to dress up.

"Quinn?" Quinn just let out a little snort in response.

"Quinn, wake up." Rachel spoke a little louder this time, hoping she would be heard. No such luck. She went and sat next to Quinn, poking her in the arm once or twice. The blonde simply shrugged her off and retreated into dreamland, a little bit of drool making it's way out of her mouth. Normally, Rachel would have shrieked and stuffed a gag into Quinn's mouth, but now she just found it cute. Wiping off the stray spit with the corner of the pillow, she tried nudging Quinn again.

"Come on Quinn. You can sleep some more later. Wake up." Nothing.

"Quinn, please. Wake UP." Rachel shouted right into Quinn's ear, which earned her a sharp kick on the ass.

"Ouch! You brat. You're awake! Fine. I won't try to help you again." Before Rachel could get up, Quinn wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged, resulting in Rachel ending up in a tangled heap on the bed.

"Oof ... You're a heavy Berry. Heavy Berry. Get it?" Quinn giggled sleepily and pushed Rachel hard, who landed face down on the floor.

"What the heck was that for?" said Rachel angrily, sitting up and rubbing her nose.

"I'm sleepy." Quinn stuck her tongue out at Rachel and buried her face into the pillow, laughing at the dumbstruck expression on Rachel's face. She didn't have any idea why she was behaving the way she was, but thought that maybe her sleepy state made her giddy. Might as well enjoy it.

"Quinn Fabray, I'm having you transferred to a mental asylum far, far away."

"You're like a pet dog Rachel... No, honest. All bark and no bite." Rachel was now genuinely questioning Quinn's sanity, and prepared to make a quick getaway in case the girl hurled something at her. A little too late, though, since Quinn drew out a leather bound book from underneath her pillow and threw it at Rachel. Luckily, the brunette caught it before it hit her square in the face. The moment she had the book in her hand, she realized what it was. A few moments later...

"Aaargh!" Quinn lept out of bed with a start as she was drenched in ice cold water. Rachel stood in front of her, diary in hand and a furious look on her face.

"You _cow_! You absolute, complete and total ass. How dare you take my diary?" Quinn stood there spluttering and embarrassed, water dripping down her face. Maybe sleeping hadn't been a good idea.

"Answer me, dammit. Where the hell did you find this and more importantly, _why_ did you take it with you?" Rachel stared accusingly at Quinn, trying not to get sidetracked by the fact that the blonde in front of her looked like a guilty little kid.

"Quinn, either you answer my question or I swear to God I will call the police."

"The police? Berry, calm down."

"I will not. Who the _hell_ do you think you are? You live in this house, Quinn. That does _not_ give you the right to snoop around in my things… And here I thought I could trust you. How much have you read?"

"Not much. I swear. I found it the day before when you asked me to get your laptop. I didn't mean to look, but it was screaming out at me. I mean, you have 'Rachel's Secret Diary. Stay Out' printed on it. You really thought someone could resist that invitation?... I'm sorry. But I barely got through a page or so. I was going to give it back. "

"Which page."

"Seventh Grade." Rachel flushed as red as her skin would allow, and prayed to every deity she knew of to open the earth and let it swallow her.

* * *

_Dearest Diary,_

_I'm awfully sorry for ignoring you for so long, but there's just been so much going on. I'll tell you all about it now that I finally have time. It was my very-berry first day at McKinley Junior High today..._

_... Three paragraphs omitted, with varying descriptions of Rachel's toad-like teachers and the rather lost looking girl sitting next to her..._

_... and he was just so dopey, diary. I realize that it's not nice to call someone that without even getting to know them, but still. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. I get the feeling that he's not the brightest in the pack. But you'll be wondering why I'm dragging on about a boy who appears to be rather boring. Well, diary, I am not very intrigued(new word) by the boy, but by the fact that every girl seems to like him a lot. You see, there were at least five girls asking to sit with him after first period. He just seemed to be dazed by all the attention, and I was curious. Why would all these girl wish to get his attention? As you know, diary, a good performer must be in tune with the needs of their audience._

_I observed Finn for some time by surreptitiously(again, new word, but I need to find out more about the meaning) sitting behind him in every period. I found that he was on the football team. As you know, this makes any boy very popular. All the girls wanted him to be their friend so that they would become cool. Apparently being cool is very important in this school, and I found out why in the lunch break. They have a tradition of pouring freezing drinks on people who aren't popular. Extreme, I know. I hope I won't be 'slushied' as they call it, but I have a bad feeling about it._

_Anyways, back to Dopey. He was being followed by this gushing gang of girls who all thought he was amazing, because someone called Quinn said so. I thought she might have been a senior or something, but turned out that she was in my year. She's one of the most popular people in school already, because her parents know everyone. No one even talks to my dads once they find out there are two of them._

_Diary, now comes the moment this has all been leading to. Quinn Fabray is in my Math class, and I saw her sit on one of the front benches. God, diary, she's so... exquisite(More new word. High five). Everyone seems to like her a lot, and all the boys are trying to be friends with her. She even got to sit with all the cheerleaders at lunch because her sister is one of them. And she really is very pretty. She has blonde hair and I think green eyes. Emerald, I've heard is a nice way to talk about eyes. Better than plain, boring colors._

_I won't envy her hair, diary, because mine is wonderful too, but it's such a shiny color. So much more prominent on stage than brown. I've never seen a prettier girl. I really wanted to be friends with her, but I didn't get much time to talk to anyone today except for a boy called Danny. Maybe I can sit near her tomorrow. I hope so..._

_... Remaining entry omitted, again with descriptions of different people, but none as detailed as Quinn..._

_My hand hurts now diary, so I'll say bye for now. I'll write again soon. Make a wish for me. Wish real hard that Quinn and I become friends. I think we will, and I think she'll be the best friend I ever had._

_Buckets and tubs of Love,_

_Rachel Barbra Berry._

* * *

"You had no right to read my diary, Quinn."

"But-"

"_No_. You cannot even think of trying to justify this gross invasion of privacy. I fought to let you stay in my house because I didn't think it was fair to be in your situation. I sympathized with you, I tried to help you even though you were repeatedly ungrateful… And this is how you respond? God, I should have known trusting you was a bad idea."

"You don't mean that."

"Oh yes I do. I sincerely wish I'd had enough sense not to bring you into my house, Quinn."

* * *

"I'll be going back home for a week, to move all my stuff. Then I'm staying here for the next year. A new museum is opening, and I'll be supervising the first exhibit. Giving the staff a general idea of how things are done." Prue was sitting with the Berrys and Quinn in the lounge after dinner. Sam thought that any work talk could never be done properly on an empty stomach, which would explain why they were all stuffed. Like teddy bears.

"That is so awesome, Prue. We'll finally be seeing more of each other. What about Piper and Phoebe?" Prue's face hardened momentarily and then relaxed again.

"I'm sure Piper will be dropping in a few times." And Quinn knew better than to push for information on Phoebe. The two of them had obviously had one of their famous tiffs.

"Then I can meet her too. So where are you staying?"

"About that. I've already been given a flat by the company, and I checked it out. It's pretty nice and spacious. Too spacious for one person."

"Please don't tell me you've gone and gotten a freaky roommate. Because I am not visiting you if she has some vampire obsession or something. I do not want to be bitten."

"Aren't we optimistic? As far as I know, you don't have any really weird habits. Unless you developed some in the past few years?"

"Huh?"

"And here I was, thinking my cousin was smart. I want you to move in with me." Everyone focused their attention alternately on Prue and Quinn, who looked a bit baffled.

"Me? Move in with you? Like, live with you?"

"Like live with me, yes."

"But I live here."

"Uh... I know that. And Sam, Joseph, I really can't tell you how grateful I am to you for doing so much for Quinn when you didn't have anything to get from it. Not a lot of people would agree to just open their house to someone like that. But if it's okay with you and Quinn, I'd really like for her to live with me. I've missed her a lot in the past few years, and I'd really like to catch up."

"If Quinn's happy with it, why not? It's all that really matters." Sam smiled at Prue, not noticing the expression on Rachel's face, who kept her eyes fixed to the ground.

"I ... I don't know. I mean, you guys took me in when my parents kicked me out. And I don't want you to think that I don't appreciate that. I mean, I love staying here. I really do, and it's not like I'd leave just because there's another option."

"Quinn, we'd never think that. You're like family now, and all of us just want what's best for you. There's no question of taking offense. I just want you to keep in mind what would be most convenient for you and the baby. Our house is always open to you." Sam saw Quinn tearing up and stopped his speech right away. Even with Rachel for a daughter, teary teenagers were not his forte.

"Kiddo, listen. You're one of the only members of my family whom I actually care about. And I want to do this for you. You don't deserve what Uncle did to you, and I want to be able to make it right. We care about you, Quinn, and I want us to stick together. If you want to stay here, I understand. But I really do have a huge apartment, and a roommate would be nice. Plus, you cook."

"And have babies. I'm pregnant, Prue."

"Why, I never noticed. Thank you for pointing that out. Goof. I know you're pregnant, you idiot. I'm going to be here for quite some time, and cranky pregnant teen's are good experience for cranky, crazy bosses."

"Ha ha."

"I'm totally serious here. But you don't have to decide right now or anything. You can just tell me any time you're ready. Think about it, talk to anyone you need, and then decide. There's plenty of time."

Quinn nodded and glanced at Rachel, who gave her a tight, polite smile._ "Oh yes I do. I sincerely wish I'd had enough sense not to bring you into my house, Quinn."_

She didn't need time.

* * *

You think Quinn will move out? Do you _know_ whether she will move out? I don't either. Let's see:)

Btw, aren't dream sequences fun? So much fun. *Evil cackle*. I just needed to write some Faberry, but couldn't have them jumping each other just yet.

**Davey K**: Thanks for commenting. Here's temporary Faberry:) I will be continuing the Sleuth Santana plot, but not immediately. It'll be very important later, though.


	15. Chapter 15

**Title:** My Private Nation

**Pairing:**Quinn/Rachel

**Rating****: **R

**Spoilers:**Takes place after EP 13 'Sectionals'.Contains major part of storyline up until EP18.

**Timeline:**The day after C15

**Disclaimer:**I don't own Glee, the songs, or even the characters.

**Author's Note: **Un-beta-ed for now so feel free to point out errors. Happy Reading and please R&R. Reviews are my lifeline. They also encourage me to write faster.:)

* * *

_"And have babies. I'm pregnant, Prue."_

_"Why, I never noticed. Thank you for pointing that out. Goof. I know you're pregnant, you idiot. I'm going to be here for quite some time, and cranky pregnant teen's are good experience for cranky, crazy bosses."_

_"Ha ha."_

_"I'm totally serious here. But you don't have to decide right now or anything. You can just tell me any time you're ready. Think about it, talk to anyone you need, and then decide. There's plenty of time."_

_Quinn nodded and glanced at Rachel, who gave her a tight, polite smile. "I wish that I'd never let you stay here, and I want you to go away."_

_She didn't need time._

* * *

"Daddy, could you pass the salt, please?" Rachel looked at Sam across the dinner table expectantly, while he waited for Quinn to respond. She silently moved over the salt to him, and he gave it to Rachel.

"Thank you." And they resumed eating in silence. The Berry dinner-table had been in this state for the past four days, since Quinn had agreed to move in with her cousin. Although Joseph and Sam had tried very hard to make conversation initially, it had turned out to be pretty useless. So now all of them were sitting quietly, picking at their dinner and trying to ignore the awkwardness of the situation.

Joseph knew exactly what the problem was, much better than the other three, but there was nothing he could do about it. Sam had shrugged off his theory, and he didn't have the guts to broach the topic with either Rachel or Quinn. He didn't think either of them would take too kindly to the suggestion that they might have something more than platonic feelings for each other. Yes, the whole gay parent, gay kid thing was a cliche, but he was sure that he wasn't imagining things. There was something brewing, but he decided to just let it play out naturally.

"Joseph? Can you give me the rice, please?" Quinn asked Joseph even though Rachel would obviously be able to do it more easily. If Rachel wanted to behave like a five-year-old, Quinn would gladly do the same. She knew that she hadn't done the right thing, but she wasn't some damn saint. Who wouldn't have read that diary? And it wasn't her fault that she'd chanced upon the wrong page. But she had groveled for a whole day - very, very nicely. There wasn't anything more she was willing to do. Although she would have preferred it if her last few days here would be a bit lighter, Rachel needed to grow up for that to happen.

Rachel silently watched Quinn, knowing exactly what the blonde was thinking, and just concentrated on keeping her temper in check. She was boiling inside, but she couldn't just start spewing nonsense in the middle of dinner. She knew the anger was irrational; she'd already given Quinn enough grief about the diary, and the girl had literally begged for forgiveness. But she just couldn't seem to let the damn thing go. Every time she thought about it, she got the strongest urge to chuck something at Quinn.

It was more of the embarrassment of the situation than the invasion of privacy. Although Rachel had made sure that she never outwardly reacted to all the garbage people at school threw at her, that didn't mean it didn't bother her. She was really sensitive, and could recount almost every time she'd been publicly humiliated and the burning rush of shame she'd felt. She knew that Quinn had changed, that she probably wouldn't use the things she'd read against Rachel, but still, there was always the small chance that she would. Rachel had truly forgiven Quinn, but the incident brought forward some trust issues. Forgiving wasn't difficult, but forgetting was.

And yet, every time she reminded herself of the fact that Quinn had actually agreed to move out, she'd get a sinking feeling in her stomach that couldn't be rationalized. After all, wasn't it logical that Quinn would take the opportunity to stay with one of her relatives rather than people she'd just gotten to know? It's not like she was being ungrateful, or ignoring what the Berry's had done for her. So Rachel should have been happy about the fact that Quinn would have somewhere more permanent to live. But she couldn't be. All the logic and reasoning in the world couldn't stop her from wanting to beg Quinn to change her mind. Although she wouldn't do that either. She refused to interfere with the decision Quinn had though was best for her and the baby. It wasn't her place.

* * *

The next day, Quinn stood leaning on her bedroom window, looking out at the garden below. She could see the tiny little buds that Joseph had made her plant. It was a rather old tradition in his family that every member of the household would have some little tree or plant in the garden, and he had continued it in his own house. They would be in full bloom soon, but Quinn wouldn't be here to see that. A sigh escaped her lips as she realized that she had only two weeks left in this house.

She glanced over at her cupboard, debating whether to pack now or later. Not that there was a lot to pack, mind you. She'd brought over very few clothes of her own, and the only other things were the maternity clothes that Rachel had practically forced down her throat. She had actually needed the dresses, but taking them from Rachel was a bit... awkward. However, the brunette hadn't really paid much attention to her hesitation, placing the clothes in Quinn's cupboard again and again till the blonde got tired of chucking them out. Plus, they were actually sort of cute. She was sure Rachel had enlisted Kurt's help for the shopping, since the two had managed to become pretty... civil, if not over-friendly.

The phone vibrated next to her, bringing her out of her reverie. It was a message from Puck.

"Me, S, B, Matt n Tina r hanging out. You in?" She toyed with the phone for a moment, debating whether to go or not. It wasn't like there was anything better to do, and this was one of her energetic days. But she had wanted to stay at home, talk to Sam for some time, and just make the most of the time left here. But then she heard Rachel's voice float up the hall, accompanied by Jesse's insistent tones. Well, she obviously wouldn't want to be spending quality time with the two of them. Why not go with Puck?

At Puck's house, he was sitting and grinning when he saw the reply Quinn had sent. He had managed to convince himself of the fact that she didn't seem to be interested in him in a romantic way, but it was more of a temporary belief than a permanent acceptance. He needed to thank Berry for giving him the idea to ask Quinn to come with all of them to Tina's place.

Just a day or two ago, she'd presented a theory to him that Quinn wouldn't want to be with him if he kept pushing, but maybe he could get her interested by just being around her. And since she'd said no to being alone together, it would be a good idea for him to ask her when there were other people included, to make her comfortable. According to Berry, he was a nice guy who seemed to like Quinn, and she just needed to be shown that. For the first time in his life, he had actually understood what Berry had said, and was glad that he'd taken her advice. He wanted his girl back, and if it meant listening to Berry's ten-point-plan, then so be it.

* * *

Quinn was heading down the hall, all geared up for the next few hours when she chanced upon a little baby shirt. Rachel's little baby shirt, lying on the floor. She knew it was Rachel's because Quinn and Joseph had spent a few days gushing over how cute Rachel was when she was little, and Rachel had subsequently spent those days getting embarrassed at Quinn mentioning baby Rae-Rae and making cooing sounds.

But anyway, what Quinn couldn't figure out was why this was on the floor. Rachel normally never brought out her old things, and Sam and Joseph were out too. She was getting late and decided to just leave it at Rachel's door, in accordance with the silent treatment they'd been giving each other. As she got near Rachel's room, she saw that the door was open, and heard Jesse say something.

"You were eight months old?" Quinn smiled at that. She knew what Rachel was going to say; they'd already had this conversation.

"I was very musically verbal." Yup, same reply every time. She stepped into the light just in time to see Jesse pull something out of his pocket and put it into Rachel's box. And she also saw him make a show of grabbing it and pretending he had found something labeled 'From Mother To Daughter'. What on earth was all this about?

"Hey, what's this?" She moved back into the shadows in order to be able to listen to the rest of the conversation without being seen. Quinn couldn't understand why Jesse was pretending to be completely oblivious about the cassette when he was the one who'd put it there. She stood and listen to the two of them discussing and arguing about the cassette, and heard Jesse trying a little too hard to persuade Rachel to listen to it; or at least it sounded a little too forceful because of her suspicion.

She very nearly barged into the room to demand that Jesse explain what the hell he was doing, but being impulsive and interfering in Rachel's affairs hadn't really been very productive so far. So she decided to wait instead; pressing herself up against the wall till Rachel insisted that Jesse leave her alone. She saw him leave the room, being too angry to wait and look who was there. But even then, she stayed where she was till she heard the banging of the front door, after which she finally went into Rachel's room

The brunette was sitting there forlornly, the tape clutched tightly in her hands. She had such a lost expression on her face that Quinn almost didn't have the heart to say anything to her. But what had just happened was way too important to ignore. She knew how sensitive Rachel really was about her mother, and if Jesse was trying to mess with her head, Quinn couldn't very well just sit there and watch.

"Rachel?" She waited for a few moments, hoping Rachel would notice her, but the girl was too absorbed in her own thoughts to realize that someone had entered the room. Quinn walked over to Rachel, nudging her shoulder slightly to catch her attention. Rachel looked up at her, startled, and more than a bit teary-eyed. Her lip wobbled as Quinn cupped her face with one hand and took the tape from her with the other, reading the inscription on the back.

"It's okay. You don't have to worry about this."

"Don't have to worry? You are holding the one thing that I posses which can connect me to my mother. How do you expect me not to worry?" Rachel had jerked away from Quinn's hand and was looking at her as if she'd been bitten by a dog and was foaming at the mouth.

"No, that's not what I meant. It's just that this thing isn't from your mom."

"Really? Then please enlighten me as to why anyone other than my mom would put cassette labeled 'From Mother to Daughter' in my things?"

"You'd better ask Jesse that."

"Excuse me?" Now Rachel really believed that there was something wrong with Quinn.

"I saw him take it out of his pocket and slip it into the box a few minutes ago."

"First you read my diary, and now you're spying on me? Are you stalking me, Quinn?"

"I am not _stalking_ you, Berry. For God's sake, grow up. Actually, just shut up." Stalking Rachel. Yeah right, like Quinn had nothing better to do.

"I resent being asked to-"

"Shut up and listen. I was going out and I saw your dress on the floor. I'd just come to give it back when I saw him. No stalking involved."

"Quinn, while I appreciate your concern, I am absolutely certain of the fact that Jesse did not plant that tape. I'm positive that you must have misinterpreted the situation."

Quinn was absolutely shocked at the fact that Rachel was taking that smooth talking, hair-product-using nitwit's side over hers, and she was about to say so when her brain registered the tone of Rachel's wasn't how she spoke at home and, more importantly, this wasn't how she spoke to Quinn. This was the defensive, up-in-arms Rachel, which meant that she didn't really believe what she was saying, but Quinn shouting at her would solidify her trust in that douche.

"Rachel, I'm pretty sure I saw what I did."

"Quinn, be reasonable. I have no doubts about your eyesight, but I simply see no motive for Jesse to feed me false information about my mother. He would get nothing out of it." Quinn kept quiet for a moment, not really able to see the flaw in Rachel's reasoning, but not able to dismiss what she'd seen either.

"You're right. I don't have a clue as to what he'd get out of this, but maybe we'd get a better idea if you actually listened to that tape?"

"No."

"Rachel, what harm will it do? If it's real, you'll get something out of it. I mean, I'm pretty sure your mom wouldn't have recorded a hate message or something. And if it's too weird, we know who put it there."

"I said no. Now don't you have some sort of party to go to?"

"How'd you know about that?"

"I.. Well, I-" Rachel was saved from replying by the horn honking downstairs, indicating that Santana had arrived.

"See you later, Rachel."

"Yeah. Message when you reach, please?" Quinn smiled and nodded while leaving, glad that they were back on talking terms, while Rachel stashed the tape underneath a few of her notebooks.

* * *

Quinn sat in one corner of Tina's house, fiddling with her hair. It was kind of fun, with everyone telling crazy stories and Brittany making them do whacked out dance moves, with Santana's encouraging glares. Tina's mom had walked by a few times, more than a little alarmed at what exactly they were up to. She'd been thinking that having friends might help Tina out of her shell and maybe help her get over the Goth obsession, but seeing Puck dangle noodles out of his nose was making her rethink her decision.

But anyways, although it was fun, Quinn wasn't really able to enjoy it as much as she would have if that Jesse thing wasn't on her mind. She couldn't stop thinking about what she'd seen, and trying to figure out what it meant. The only way she'd ever find out was of Rachel played the tape, and it didn't seem like that was going to happen any time soon. Maybe she could just sneak into her room and-

"Hey baby mama. What're you doing all holed up here by yourself?"

"Huh?" She looked at Puck's smiling face, registering the drink he had in his hand. He noticed where she was looking and his grin faltered a little.

"Water. Just plain water. There's some juice as well, if you want that. I just though that, with the baby and stuff, you should have something." Another thing Rachel had asked him to do. She said that he should keep an eye on the small thing like this, and Quinn would appreciate it. Judging by the look on her face, she did.

"Thanks, Puck. I should have thought of that myself."

"That's what I'm saying. What're you lost in? You been sitting here for ages. Even Britt asked."

"Nothing, just thinking." Quinn had very briefly contemplated asking for Puck's help, but then decided against it. He'd grown awfully fond of Rachel, and Jesse got on his nerves. If he even thought that Jesse was playing with Rachel, he would probably have hung the boy upside down on a ceiling fan and shaved his head. And Santana would just fuel her crazy theory about how she was crushing on Rachel. Which was ridiculous, of course, since Quinn was straight. She had an ex-boyfriend, and was pregnant. Totally straight. I mean, she had been a cheerleader, shared a locker room with tonnes of other girls and never even spared them a glance except to complain to Coach Sylvester about the ones who were getting fat. Like I said, straight.

But getting back to the point, Quinn had realized that she couldn't really ask anybody for help in finding out what Jesse was up to. She was pretty sure she was smart enough to figure it out on her own. Stalking him or something similar was out of question, but the school databases would give her some information. She needed to get back home and get her hands on the tape before Rachel heard it; Quinn didn't want the brunette getting worked up over something that was probably a trick. And if it was something that could be believable, then it would simply be a matter of finding out how Jesse got it.

* * *

"Corcoran."

"I gave it to her." The boy was behaving more and more like her every day. Now if only that could be considered a good thing.

"Finally. What did she say?"

"That's kinda the problem... She refused to listen to it. In fact, she practically threw me out of the house when she saw it." She could hear the annoyance in his voice, but didn't have time to process that.

"Jesse, that tape is not for her to display on her damn mantelpiece. What the hell is the point of her having it if she doesn't hear it?"

"I don't know! You told me to give it to her, and I did. What can I do if she doesn't want to hear it?"

"Urgh... Fine. Just leave it with her and keep giving her little reminders. Drop hints here and there till she can't get it out of her head. If she's my daughter in any way, then she won't be able to handle the suspense. And also, start cooling down your little romance. I'm going to get you transferred back soon, and I don't want you to go and dump her or something."

"No, of course not! I actually kinda like her. I wouldn't want to hurt her her." Which could, in a very broad sort of way, be considered the truth. Jesse didn't like Rachel, precisely, but he didn't have some crazy vengeance thing against her either. Since the time they'd gotten together, she'd done nothing to make him hate her, and he'd realized that beneath all the bullshit, she wasn't a bad person or anything. If you could manage to stand her incessant chatter, she was... nice, and he would have regretted having to crush her heart. Plus, he really though Shelby might eat him alive if she though he was thinking of hurting her precious kid.

"Of course you wouldn't. I know all about Tracy, St. James. Just start getting away from her a little. Tell her your parents are coming back or something. And when she figures out about me, you will pretend that you knew nothing. Clear?"

"Crystal."

* * *

"So, you ready for this?" Joseph had come up with Quinn to Sam's office, where they were scheduled to be meeting some of the prospective parents. Quinn had gone over some files, and picked out a few people who seemed nice.

"I guess so. Let's just get it over with."

"Okay, but I want you to keep in mind the fact that it could take time. You might not find the right people today or tomorrow or even for a week. Don't rush into anything till you feel that they're perfect; just good doesn't cut it." And with that they went in, where Sam was waiting for them with a young woman, who was peering around anxiously. He stood up as they walked in, guiding both Joseph and Quinn to the couch opposite his.

Joseph wasn't really needed there at all. Sam was there because his firm was doing all the legal work for Quinn, but Joseph was really just there to sit an observe. Quinn had wanted him there, not only because he was a brilliant judge of character, but also because she wanted to see people's reaction to two gay men. If they gave one of those someone-just-threw-shit-on-my-face expressions, or even ran out screaming, that would really cut down the screening process.

"This is Jane. Jane, Quinn Fabray and my husband, Joseph."

"Nice to meet you. I'm so excited to be doing this." Okay. She didn't flinch at the husband part, but a bit peppy all the same.

As time went on, they discovered that she wasn't a bit peppy; she was a bit too peppy. All rainbows and sunshine and flowers, and she just ended up reminding Quinn too much of her mother.

The next two weren't a big success either. One couple already had three kids, and for some reason, they couldn't manage to explain why exactly they wanted another. Joseph got creeped out by them, which was an instant no. And the other ones were nice and young and eager, but Quinn didn't feel that instant 'yes' that Joseph had told her about, so she put them on her consideration list.

By now, Quinn was getting tired. They had started out in the morning, and although it was just after lunch, her energy was on a major down. Luckily, there was only one couple left. They walked into the door, not waiting for either Sam or Joseph to get up, but walking straight to Quinn. The man thrust his hand out and said, "Hello, I'm Jarad."

Quinn couldn't quite figure out what, but there was something familiar about this man; the name, the voice, she'd heard it all before. But she shook off the sense deja vu and took his hand, introducing herself and asking him to sit. He nodded over at Sam and Joseph, and none of them missed the slight faltering of his confident smile when they introduced themselves, nor the glimmer of distaste in his wife's eyes. She felt like kicking them out, but had the urge to figure out who exactly this guy was.

They conversed for some time, but she still couldn't quite place him. He was like one of those vague memories that flitted about in your brain; the name at the tip of your tongue which you just couldn't get out. In the end, his preachings about family values and right atmospheres and what not grated her already frayed nerves a little too much. She was hungry, tired and curious, and didn't have the energy to pretend otherwise.

"I'm sorry, but I didn't catch your last name. What was it again?" He looked a bit bugged at being interrupted, but smiled at her a little condescendingly.

"Wilson. Jarad Alexander Wilson."... Good God. Jarad Alexander Wilson. This had to be some sort of sick joke. She looked over at his wife closely, but no, this woman most definitely wasn't her sister. Then how the hell was her brother-in-law calling that woman his wife?

* * *

Review!


	16. Chapter 16

**Title:** My Private Nation

**Pairing:**Quinn/Rachel

**Rating****: **R

**Spoilers:**Takes place after EP 13 'Sectionals'.Contains major part of storyline up until EP18.

**Timeline:**Same day as C16

**Disclaimer:**I don't own Glee, the songs, or even the characters.

**Author's Note: **Un-beta-ed for now so feel free to point out errors. Happy Reading and please R&R. Reviews are my lifeline. They also encourage me to write faster.:)

This chapter was not supposed to be this long. Not at all. And nor was is supposed to take this much time.

* * *

_"I'm sorry, but I didn't catch your last name. What was it again?" He looked a bit bugged at being interrupted, but smiled at her a little condescendingly._

_"Wilson. Jarad Alexander Wilson." Good God. Jarad Alexander Wilson. This had to be some sort of sick joke. She looked over at his wife closely, but no, this woman most definitely wasn't her sister. Then how the hell was her brother-in-law calling that woman his wife?_

* * *

"Are you okay?" Everyone in the room was looking at Quinn with some concern as her already pale complexion turned a rather worrisome white. Joseph put a hand on her shoulder, which she shrugged off, trying to understand what was happening.

"Have you been married before?" Jarad looked taken aback at her question.

"I'm sorry?"

"I asked, have you been married before?"

"No, I haven't. Amelie is my first wife." He looked over at the petite woman reassuringly, trying not to let the worry show on his face. He didn't understand how this girl knew him since he was pretty sure he'd never seen her before.

"Don't lie. I know you. You married Grace." Jarad visibly recoiled at the name and at the almost murderous look Quinn gave him.

"H-How do you know Grace?"

"I'm her _sister_. I was your flower girl, you dimwit. Now tell me, what the hell have you done with my sister?" Quinn didn't like her sister, by any stretch of the imagination, but still, she was her family and this was cause for major concern. Her husband was adopting a kid with some other woman and no one knew? Quinn was afraid that something had happened to Grace and her parents never came to know. As she thought about it, she realized that they hadn't heard from Grace for an unusually long amount of time, but her father had shrugged it off, saying that she was probably too involved in her family life.

"Done with her? I haven't done anything with her. Didn't she tell you? We got divorced."

What on earth? Divorced. Grace, the little Miss.'I'm the perfect homemaker' had gotten divorced and never even called home to talk about it? That didn't seem like her.

"You're lying. You _just_ said you didn't know her, and now you're saying you divorced her? She would have told us. Tell me the truth, dammit. Where's my sister?"

"I'm _telling_ you, I divorced her and I haven't heard from her since I came back here. She's still in L. A, as far as I know. She was a damn freak. Looks like it runs in the family."

"That's enough." Sam had gotten up now, not wanting the drama to escalate. He kept a tight grip on Quinn, who was trying to launch herself at Jarad, and was about to ask him to leave when he realized there was no need. Amelia, his 'first wife', had gotten up and left the room and he followed after her. Only after Jarad was out of the room did Sam leave Quinn, and she had deflated by then, sinking back onto the couch next to Joseph. He exchanged a troubled glance with his husband, then sat down on her other side, covering her delicate hands with his own.

"Quinn? Sweetie, are you alright?"

"Sam, that was my brother-in-law. He got_ married_ to my sister just a few years ago. And now they're not together and she never even called. I need to know where she is."

"Okay. Just calm down first. Relax... That's better. This whole thing that just happened was.. weird, to say the least, but it's not your job to make sense of it. I'll drop a note at your house explaining the situation. Maybe they heard from her more.. recently."

"They should have said something, then. She's my sister, for God's sake... Can I have the phone, please?"

"What're you doing?"

"I'm calling my mom. She'd know. If Grace had called, she'd know something by now." Sam nodded and handed her his phone, hoping that Quinn's mother would have the sense to behave.

"Hello... Hello... Hello? Who is this?" Judy held the phone impatiently, mindful of the meat loaf that needed to be taken out of the oven.

"Mom. It's Quinn." She heard her mother suck in a breathe on the other end on hearing Quinn's voice for the first time in months. She waited, because she knew that Judy would look around the room, glance over her back for Russell even though she knew full well he was at work. It was more of a habit than a necessity, and Quinn had done it herself more times than she would care to count.

"Oh, Quinnie. Baby, I was _dying_ to hear your voice. How are you? Where have you been staying?" Quinn had to stop for a minute and choke back the tears that were going to fall. She knew that if she started now, all that resentment towards her mother would come out, and they didn't have time for that.

"That's not important. Mom, have you heard from Grace?"

"Grace?... Uh, no. She hasn't called for some time now. Why?"

"She used to call you guys every week, and you don't even bother when she doesn't contact you in such a long time?"

"Don't say that, sweetie. I just... You know your father has her number, and I asked him. He said that he had called her and she was simply busy due to the promotion Jarad got. You know how it is - all the parties and dinners and things. She'll call when she gets some time. But why are you asking?"

"I think you need to verify your facts, mom. Because your precious _Jarad_ just walked into the adoption agency with his wife, Amelie. And he said he had no idea where Grace was. They're divorced."

"Quinnie! How can you say such things about your sister? You're being ridiculous. I'm sure that there must have been some misunderstanding. Jarad and Grace would never get a divorce. It's unthinkable." Her mother had lapsed into that high, cheerful voice that she used when she wanted to ignore anything the other person was saying, and Quinn just knew that this was hopeless. Judy wasn't going to digest anything she said, no matter how hard she tried to convince her.

"Maybe it _was_ just a misunderstanding. But still, can you just drop me a message or something when she calls?"

"Of course. Now tell-"

"Mom, I've got to go now. I'll call some other time. Bye." She didn't even wait for her mother to reply before cutting the call and getting up. "Let's go home."

"Quinn, we will try to find out where she is."

"I know. I'm just... tired. Let's go home."

* * *

On the other side of town, Judy put the phone down and carefully wiped her fingers clean. She went back into the kitchen and continued what she was doing without much conscious effort, her mind occupied by the conversation she'd just had with Quinn. She dipped a spoon into the sauce, and then made a slight face while carefully measuring out salt to add to it. Repeating the motions with the rest of the food, she wondered if it was possible that something had happened and Russell hadn't told her. But then that was preposterous - Grace getting a divorce would be something too big to keep hidden from her... wouldn't it?

She thought back to when news of Quinn's pregnancy had broken out. Russell had deflected and trivialized the topic till no one thought to mention it. Couldn't he have done the same with Grace; not even tell anyone about it so there was no question of a scandal? But then she would have come back home. Without Jarad, Grace had no actual place in L. A. They had no relatives there, and she hadn't mentioned a job the last time they'd spoken. So if, and that was a big if, she had separated from Jarad, she would have come back home.

Judy spent the rest of the day trying to placate and convince herself that her eldest daughter was fine, just as she'd done when Russell had kicked Quinn out and not bothered to see if she had anywhere else to go. By the time Russell came home, she had managed to shove it to the back of her mind, but in the quiet of the night, she lay awake, unable to keep her thoughts from wandering. Maybe she could just call Grace tomorrow?... Yes, she would do that, and then she could even tell Quinn that her concern had been baseless.

* * *

Quinn stood with her hand on Rachel's doorknob, her hesitation apparent. She knew what she was doing wasn't right; sneaking into the girl's room to basically steal something that was in no way her business, but it wasn't really for her, was it? She was just trying to keep Rachel safe, and that was all. And maybe there was just a teeny little bit of her that was curious as to what exactly was in that damn tape, but that was just a teeny bit.

So she turned the doorknob and pushed the door open ever so gently, trying to avoid the slight creakiness of the hinges. Rachel was generally a deep sleeper at this time of the night, but it was better to be cautious. Quinn crept into the room after seeing that Rachel's sleeping silhouette hadn't moved, and moved toward the study table, where she was sure the cassette would be kept. She kept glancing over at Rachel, who was curled up inside her blanket, appearing to be sound asleep. Her palms were sweating and her heart raced madly, but she still opened the first drawer, and then the next, till she found what she was looking for.

Tucking the tape safely into the pocket of her pajamas, she was just turning to leave when Rachel turned over, exhaling softly before proceeding to kick the blanket off her body. Quinn stopped dead in her tracks, trying not to move a muscle for the next few moments, when it became apparent that Rachel was still fast asleep. Quinn let out a relieved sigh, and was making her way to the door again when she stopped yet again, to see the other girl muttering softly in her sleep. Quinn stood against the door for a minute, observing how the light fell on the brunette's face.

There were a few strands of hair falling over her face, having fallen away from her ponytail, and the moonlight only emphasized her flawless skin. Quinn couldn't help but smile as Rachel scrunched up her nose and brushed away some stray locks that were tickling her. She walked up to the sleeping girl, forgetting what she had been doing, and gently ran her hand over the creases on the brunette's forehead, smoothing them out. She sat down next to her, not taking her eyes off Rachel's sleeping form.

Quinn didn't really put much conscious thought into keeping her hand on Rachel's forehead, and gently moving it down her face, tracing over her cheekbone, brushing her thumb over her lips. She bent down slightly, cupping Rachel's face in her hand and tilting her head... And then a little more till her lips connected with the corner of Rachel's mouth... And then a little to the side till she could feel Rachel's full lips below her own.

It was then that Rachel chose to turn again, making Quinn jerk back like she'd been burnt. She got up from the bed and out of the room as fast as possible, just turning once to see if Rachel's eyes were still closed or not. Once she got to her room, Quinn locked the door behind her and collapsed on her bed, her hands trembling. She forgot all about Grace, the cassette and Jesse as she drew her pillow up to her chest and just sat on the bed, trying to get her breathing under control.

"That was a mistake. That was just a mistake... I didn't do anything." She kept talking to herself softly, reassuringly. Because if she said it enough times, if she tried to believe it hard enough, then it would be true. The darkness of the night would wipe away all traces of what she'd done, even from her own mind. It had just been a mistake, after all. She had just been pressing a friendly, caring kiss on Rachel's cheek and the girl had shifted. Quinn couldn't be blamed for that, could she?.. Only this time, she knew she could. She knew that she was the one who had moved, not Rachel. But Quinn had managed to fight this, to deny it, to ignore it, for so many years. She wouldn't stop now.

* * *

"Good morning, Daddy." Rachel trilled in a very cheerful voice, bouncing down the stairs, looking forward to yet another day of school. Not that there was much to look forward to, but optimism never hurt anyone. She gave both Sam and Joseph a peck on the cheek, then sat down with her breakfast, looking around for Quinn. When she couldn't spot the girl anywhere, she raised a questioning eyebrow at Joseph.

"Quinn's not feeling too well, so I'm letting her stay home today."

"What's wrong? Maybe I should go check up on her."

"Rachel, she'd fine. Stuff like this will happen more often now that her pregnancy is progressing. That little baby is growing really fast, and she needs her rest. It's nothing to worry about. Go to school and let her sleep it off." He suspected that the partial reason for Quinn's health problems was the incident at Sam's office yesterday, but he didn't mention it to Rachel. That was for Quinn to share, if she wanted to.

So Rachel left, while Quinn lay upstairs, wide awake, but in no mood to get out of bed. She let out a sigh of relief when she heard the front door bang shut and Sam's car move out of the driveway. Quinn had woke up unusually early, and it had taken her a few moments to recollect the events of last night. When she did, her pale cheeks suffused with color as she sank back into the blankets, trying to block the memory out.

She shooed Joseph away, pleading fatigue, and tried to think of something, anything else to distract herself. But her thoughts kept wandering back to how innocent Rachel looked, and the softness of her lips, accompanied by an anxious, expanding feeling in her chest, almost like she couldn't get enough oxygen. It was too much to handle for her, and she knew that trying to distract herself while lying in bed was useless.

And so Quinn jumped... Well, not _jumped_ exactly, but you get the gist... out of bed, knowing that the only way to keep herself from thinking of Rachel would be to physically occupy herself in something, and what better than getting a hold of their relatives?

This would be the perfect time to check out Rachel's tape since there was no chance of the brunette coming in. So she slid it into the player and held her breathe. The first notes of the song floating through the room surprised her, to say the least. Quinn had been expecting a recorded message or something similar, but as the song went on, she realized that it expressed just as much, if not more than a speech would have.

After listening to this, one thing was pretty clear; it wasn't a hoax unless Jesse was some professional criminal mastermind, which was highly unlikely. The woman had dedicated a song to Rachel, and she had a voice to die for. That wasn't some damn coincidence. So now the most puzzling question was where Jesse got this from. If her mom wanted to talk to Rachel, wouldn't she just have done so? Why did she give the tape to Jesse, of all people?

Quinn wanted the answers, but wasn't sure where to begin. Assuming that Jesse didn't steal the tape, the logical conclusion was that someone gave it to him because they trusted him with it. Which in turn meant that that someone knew Jesse well. And they could only know him well if they met social circles Jesse and his family moved in were familiar to Quinn, and somehow, none of those woman seemed right. Not that they could be ruled out, but they were just so... uppity. She couldn't picture them doing something like this. Then who?

She knew that she could keep guessing like this forever, but would never find anything conclusive till she talked to either Jesse or Sam and Joseph. And neither was exactly a viable option. Rachel had never spoken to her dads about it, and it didn't seem right that Quinn should... God, this detective stuff was harder than it looked. Especially when you had practically nothing to go on.

So she put aside the Rachel thing for now, returning the tape to where it came from, and concentrated on her own family problems. Her very concerning, very odd family problems. And she did actually have some things to begin with. Facebook being on of them. Yeah, it sounded odd as hell, but fact of the matter was that those find-a-friend search engines cost money, and Facebook wasn't a bad way to figure out where someone was. Who didn't update?

After about half an hour of browsing through various networking sites, she'd managed to find three Grace Fabrays in L. A. Not even one Grace Wilson. Quinn sent a message to each of them, asking them to reply if they knew her. She really hoped that the correct Grace got one of those messages.

"Quinn? You up to meeting a few more people today?" Joseph stood at her door with a plate of waffles in his hand. She ushered him over to the bed and he sat down, delicately balancing the plate on the bed. Quinn wolfed down the food in record time, while handing Joseph her laptop.

"So you're going all Nancy Drew on us?"

"Oh please. I'm leagues ahead of her."

"Of course you are. But I already told you, we can find out about your sister. You don't need to spend time on that."

"I know. I just wanted something to occupy myself with, and this came to mind."

"You two must have been very close, two girls and all." Quinn smiled slightly before replying.

"Yeah, you would expect that, but we really weren't. Kind of hated each other actually... Not the I-want-you-dead sort of hate, but more the I-want-you-embarrassed kind."

"Happens a lot. My brother and I used to drive our mom nuts. She threatened to leave the house so many times."

"Why is it that I just can't picture you as a one of those crazy kids?"

"Ah well, I grew up."

"Hmm... With all the fighting siblings and stuff, you must be glad that Rachel doesn't have any brothers or sisters. No having to witness World War III, right?"

"I guess when you put it like that, my life sounds really nice, but Sam and I did briefly consider another kid."

"Then why?... You don't have to answer that. I'm sorry, I just..."

"No, it's fine. No big secret or anything like that. It's just we wanted the same surrogate, and by that time, she'd left Ohio. So we gave up on the idea."

"Oh. Didn't you even ask her?"

"Nope. She came back some time ago, and even dropped off a little note, asking about how everyone was. But by then Rachel was already seven, and it seemed a little late. Plus, she'd been in showbiz , so having another child wouldn't have been convenient for her. "

"Oh... cool. I wish my parents had some sort of thing like that. No Grace Fabray. Bliss." Joseph smirked at Quinn's wish. He'd had pretty much the same sentiments when it came to his sister and brothers. But time managed to change a lot of things, and now that they weren't in his life, he wanted nothing more than for them to be a part of it. Snapping out of his thoughts, he turned to Quinn, who was still in her dream world.

"Earth to Quinn... Get out of bed and get ready. We have work to do." With that he left the room, and Quinn was alone with her thoughts. She couldn't believe how lucky she'd been; finding out so much about Rachel's mom so quickly. Right, so now she was looking for someone who had originally been from Ohio and left for 'showbiz', which meant either L. A or New York, and come back about ten years ago. That made it a hell of a lot easier. But for now, it was time for parent hunting.

* * *

Judy stood at the breakfast table by Russell's side, pouring him another glass of juice, and trying to gather the courage to broach the topic of Grace with him.

"Sweetheart?" He grunted and nodded in her general direction without taking his eyes off the paper, indicating that he was listening.

"I was wondering... Well, I was just thinking that we haven't heard from Grace for the longest time. Maybe we should give her a call. Make sure she hasn't forgotten all about us?" She gave a false little laugh at the end, hoping to make the entire statement much lighter than it was. When Russell stopped chewing his toast and looked up at her, she gave him a questioning smile.

"Have you made it your job to ruin my day? Every morning you pester me about some thing or the other. Didn't I tell you that I spoke to her? Learn to pay attention to what I say and not chew my damn brain." He yanked the napkin off his collar and stood up, pushing the chair back. Judy shuddered at his unexpected anger and clutched her apron, putting her other hand on his shoulder.

"Russell, I didn't mean to upset you... Where are you going... Russell?" But by then he had already slammed the front door shut.

Judy stood by the table for some more time, trying to understand why he had reacted so violently to a simple question. Whatever the reason, it served to add to Judy's restlessness and sinking suspicion that Quinn might actually be right.

She went up to the bedroom, and with trembling fingers, opened Russell's drawers. She couldn't stop shaking when she took out his diary and dialed Grace's number.

"This number has been temporarily disconnected. Please try again later." Judy nearly dropped the phone, but then had the sense to first replace the diary in the exact position she had found it, and wipe clean the handles of the cupboard. Only when she was sure that everything looked untouched did she sit down on the bed, growing more and more anxious for the safety of her elder daughter.

* * *

Quinn was absently picking away at a loose thread on her dress, bored out of her mind. They were once again seated in Sam's inner office, and so far all the people who she'd met had made her want to bang her head into the wall. She kept looking at the clock, wishing that the time would go faster.

"Okay, just two more to go. The next lady is a certain Ms. Corcoran," said Sam, pausing to stare at her name intently. He had taken to calling out the names of whoever was coming in to avoid something like yesterday's incident, and this one certainly made him apprehensive. When the door opened, his apprehension solidified to plain fear, because in walked the one person he had never wanted to meet again.

"Hi, I'm-" Shelby stood mute when she saw Joseph and Sam sitting with Quinn. She glanced over at the three of them as understanding and a certain amount of uneasiness crossed her face.

Quinn noticed the tension that entered the room and the way the three adults were looking at each other; it was as if they'd all seen a ghost. They stared at each other for a few moments before registering that Quinn was also in the room. Shelby moved forward and took her hand, introducing herself. She did the same with Joseph and Sam, who looked at her with a faint amount of distrust.

Quinn and Shelby spoke for quite some time, in which Quinn got to know that Shelby was Vocal Adrenaline's coach, and had been in New York for some time. She went over the file. Shelby had lived in Ohio, then moved to New York, but since her career on Broadway never took shape, she moved back and joined Vocal Adrenaline.

Quinn felt something when she spoke to Shelby, something more sincere and honest and even more brash that she had felt with any of the other people. At the end of it, she put Shelby's file away to be reviewed later, and got down to dissecting the next couple, who were just as boring as most of the others she'd met that day. But even though there were six useless meetings, there was one fruitful one, and that made Quinn feel a lot better about her future.

At the end of the day, when Quinn got into bed, she was dead tired. Spending the entire day avoiding Rachel had been really, really difficult. She had convinced herself that Rachel was something like a trigger for her feelings, and avoiding Rachel would make them go away. Which is why she spent her time dodging Rachel, feigning sickness and pretending to be asleep when Rachel came in to check on her. But she couldn't pretend than her heart hadn't skipped a beat when she'd felt Rachel sit on the bed beside her, or when she'd heard the whispered, "I hope you feel better soon. I don't like seeing you like this." No, pretending that was hard.

She spent some time tossing and turning, not able to find a comfortable position with the baby bump. Randoms thoughts raced through her head, making it hard for her to get any rest. Rachel's mom, Jesse, Grace, the baby, the adoption... Shelby. Shelby, who had seemed so nice despite having so many dreams unfulfilled. Shelby, who had come back to Ohio ten years ago. Shelby, who looked so much like Rachel, with the eyes and the nose and the characteristic little smirk. Shelby, who coached Vocal Adrenaline and would therefore be in direct contact with Jesse all the time. Shelby Corcoran, who was the person most likely to be Rachel's mother.

Quinn sat straight up on her bed, the understanding shooting through her like lightening. She almost threw the covers off herself, ready to go to Rachel, when she realized that she had no concrete proof that it was Shelby. What she thought was proof may just be a series of coincidences. No, she needed something solid before telling Rahel, and she knew exactly where to get it from. Getting back into bed, she fell asleep instantly.

* * *

"That's not my problem. Just get the damn file into my office in the next ten minutes or you're fired." Russell slammed the phone down, wiping off little beads of sweat that had formed on his face. This day was just going as pathetically as it possible could. First Judy and now these incompetent morons. Bloody idiots couldn't do anything without him dictating instructions to them. But that wasn't really the problem and he knew it. The problem was that Judy insisted on raking up a topic which he thought was best left alone.

The truth was that Russell knew exactly what had happened to Grace, and that he also knew where she was. He had deliberately kept the information from Judy and the rest of the town, not wanting to further degrade his reputation. After what Quinn had done, he refused to allow his other daughter to drag his name into the mud.

* * *

_"Hello?" Russell absently picked up his office phone, not recognizing the number._

_"Daddy, it's Grace."_

_"Sweetheart, it's so nice to finally hear from you. I thought you'd forgotten about your old man." He let out a bark of laughter, stopping immediately when he heard her sob on the other end._

_"Honey, what's wrong?... Princess, talk to me, what is it? Are you alright? Is Jarad alright?" He grew more concerned as she continued to cry softly. __"Okay, it's alright. Just calm down... It'll be alright... Deep breaths, princess. That's better. Now tell me what happened."_

_"D-Daddy, Jarad and I are getting a divorce." Russell stayed quiet for a moment, digesting what he'd just heard._

_"You're getting a WHAT?"_

_"D-Divorce, daddy. I can't stay with him. He.. He's so different. Daddy, he had an affair with this woman from work, but I- I asked him about it and he promised he'd never do it again, but he did. And then... Oh God, Daddy, when I told him to stop... He- He..."_

_"He what?"_

_"He slapped me, Daddy. In front of that woman." And then she broke down again, sniffling into the phone._

_"Grace, don't cry. Come on now, crying won't solve anything. These sort of things happen in marriages. That doesn't mean you just abandon them. Look at how long your mom and I have been together. We had our rough patches, but we got through them together, just like any two people should. All this divorce stuff is just nonsense, princess. It's for people who can't do the right thing, and you're not one of those people, are you?"_

_"But Daddy, I tried. He just won't stop and I can't live like this."_

_"Nonsense. It's just a phase. Jarad is a good boy, Grace. Give his some time and space, and I'm sure everything will work out."_

_"Daddy, please. Just come and take me home... He's really scaring me now."_

_"Listen to what I'm saying, Grace. Stay there and work on your marriage. Divorce is not an option for you."_

_"But-"_

_"No more buts. You are not allowed to come to our house until Jarad is accompanying you. Now go home, Grace. I hope to hear about the two of you changing this ridiculous decision of your's soon." With that, he replaced the phone on the receiver and continued reviewing the company's quarterly reports._

* * *

"Oh my God, oh my God... Oh my GOD." Quinn was hyperventilating as she sat it the Vocal Adrenaline auditorium with Mercedes, the other girl's hand nearly getting crushed in her grip. They had been sitting there for the past twenty minutes, watching Vocal Adrenaline do a run-through of some mash-ups. But the fact that the other team was brilliant wasn't really Quinn's problem. Her problem was that when Shelby took the stage, all her doubts vanished. This was the voice she'd heard on the tape, and if she was right, this was Rachel's mom.

"Chill out, girl. I get that you're super excited, but I really need my hand."

"Sorry, sorry. But Mercedes, that's her. I'm dead sure that that's Rachel's mom."

"Then let's go ask her."

"No, you stay here. I'll go. She might think we're spying on her or something. But stay here, just in case." Mercedes nodded as Quinn got up and walked toward the now empty stage. She whipped out her phone and started messaging Kurt. Now normally, she really would have kept a secret if Quinn asked her to, but this was colossal. And Rachel and Kurt had managed to bond, if only slightly, so she was pretty sure there was no harm done.

Meanwhile, Quinn had managed to grab Shelby's attention, who immediately got rid of the few performers still hanging around.

"Hi Quinn. I wasn't really expecting to see you so soon. And here, of all places."

"Yeah, I'm sorry if I interrupted, but it was a bit important."

"No, not at all. Why don't you come to my office? It's a little more private."

"That'd be nice." And waving slightly to Mercedes, Quinn followed Shelby to her office, which housed just as many trophies as Sue's. The effect was rather overwhelming. Shelby saw Quinn glancing over the trophies and ushered her away from them, asking her to take a seat.

"So, I presume this is about the adoption?"

"Well, kind of... There was also this other thing I needed to talk to you about," said Quinn, pausing to take a breath as Shelby looked at her quizzically. "Why haven't you told Rachel that you're her mom?" Well, she hadn't meant to spit it out like that, but didn't really see the point of being evasive either. Judging by the look on Shelby's face, taking her by surprise had been more effective.

"How the hell did you know about that?… I am going to _murder_ St. James."

"He didn't tell me anything."

"Then how? I mean, no one else would tell you."

"I heard the tape that you gave Rachel." She waited for Shelby's response, still not sure if that tape really was from Shelby or if Jesse had just managed to fabricate it.

"That complete fool. I told him, I- Urgh."

"No, it wasn't Jesse's fault," said Quinn, not sure why she was defending him. "I just happened to see it. Really, it was more my curiosity than anything."

"Oh. So... Has Rachel sent you here?"

"She hasn't heard it." Quinn offered Shelby a sympathetic smile. "And I'm not sure why she should, either. I mean, why don't you just talk to her directly?"

"I- I just can't, okay? I would have done it already if that was possible. But it's not."

"Why?"

"Quinn, I'm sorry, but I can't tell you why."

"I can help."

"Excuse me?"

"I said, I can help you. I'll get Rachel to listen to the tape, but only if you tell me why you sent it to her through Jesse. Didn't you _know_ that he would end up hurting her?" Quinn waited after that, watching the conflicting emotions on Shelby's face.

"Fine, but please don't tell Rachel about this. Her dads made me sign a contract along with the adoption papers, according to which I'm not allowed to contact her till she's eighteen. But if she comes to me, that's not violating the terms. "

"Why the hell would they do that? That's totally unfair to you and Rachel." Quinn couldn't believe that Sam and Joseph had knowingly kept Rachel from her mother, leaving the girl to think that her mom never wanted to meet her.

"Not if you really think about it. I don't blame them for doing what they did. Being gay parents is such a big issue even now, and at that time, it was unheard of in Ohio. If I had, say, changed my mind and decided that I wanted to raise Rachel after seeing her, then I could have gone to court and probably won custody of her. Sam and Jo tried very hard and for a very long time to have a baby. They faced so many hurdles and opposition, I guess that they just didn't want to go through that sort of harassment again."

"How can you be so understanding?"

"Because I lived with them for almost nine months, and I got to know them as people. They're really nice guys, Quinn. I've not had the opportunity to meet many other people like them. That's why I get that they did what they did out of necessity. But yeah, right now, today, I do wish that I'd get a little bit of leeway. I'd like to get to know Rachel."

"Uh huh... I want to help you. And I think I can, but not if Jesse's around. I don't care what he says, I know that his career means more to him than Rachel, and I know that he's going to end up hurting her. I don't want that. So if you agree to find some plausible reason, something that Rachel will understand without getting hurt, to get Jesse out of the way, then I can-"

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"You want to feel the baby?" Quinn smiled up at Shelby, who simply nodded and moved her hand, hovering over Quinn's stomach before Quinn guided it down. The baby was nice enough to comply with a few more sharp kicks, and Shelby grinned when she felt them.

"God, she's worse that Rachel was."

"Don't tell Rachel, or she might take kick-boxing lessons."

"Our little secret. So you were saying?"

"I was saying that I can get her to hear the tape, but first you take care of Jesse."

"You're a damn good bargainer, Ms. Fabray, but it's win-win for me here. I was hoping to get Jesse out of Rachel's business soon. Trust me, I'm not totally clueless, but I didn't have much choice, either."

"So we have a deal, then?"

"Deal."

* * *

"Quinn?" Quinn stopped at the foot of the stairs at hearing Rachel's voice and silently cursed her luck. She'd been hoping to escape upstairs unnoticed, but that obviously wouldn't be possible. She moved toward the study, hoping to get finished with whatever it was fast.

Rachel was sitting on one of the more comfy armchairs, wearing one of those indecently short skirts that rode right up her legs when she crossed them. Quinn couldn't help but steal a glance before thoroughly chastising herself. Luckily, Rachel had been too absorbed in the magazine she had with her to see Quinn mutter to herself. She simply help out a piece of paper, which Quinn took. It had a number scrawled on it.

"Your sister called, but you weren't there, so I took her number instead. She asked for you to call back when you could."

"Oh, okay."

"Quin-" Rachel looked up to see that Quinn had already left the room. She went back to the magazine with a shrug, making a mental note to ask Quinn why she was never seeing her these days.

Meanwhile, Quinn had rushed up to her room and locked the door, all thoughts of Rachel pushed out of her head. She looked at the paper in her hand again, almost shocked by the fact that Grace had actually gotten back to her. She almost thought that it was a prank, but called the number anyways. The ringing went on and on, and just as she was about to hang up, someone picked up. For a moment, no one spoke, and Quinn could make out numerous voices in the background.

"Hello? Is anyone there."

"Hi. Sorry, I was just busy with someone. Who is this, by the way?"

"Um... It's Quinn."

"Oh... Hi."

"Hi."

"So... Um, how come you're calling?"

"You called. I was returning it."

"Oh, okay. Well, yeah. I got your message, so I thought I should call you."

"I'm glad you did. I was worried."

"Well, at least that's someone from our family. I'm surprised that Daddy allowed you to call me."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, I figured since I've officially been disowned, none of you would contact me."

"Disowned? What the hell for?"

"Bec- Wait, you don't know? God, I should have figured. Daddy never even told you guys, did he?" Grace gave a humorless chuckle at the end, wondering why she hadn't thought of that.

"Will you stop talking in circles for a moment? What exactly didn't Daddy tell us?"

"Well, to sum it up, my dear ex-husband was a cheating bastard and my father was content with leaving me with a guy who thought it was fun to beat me up. And since I went against his decision, I wasn't allowed back into our house." Quinn was speechless for a minute, partially because of her dad's behavior, and partially because her sister had just said 'bastard'. Her sister, Grace Fabray, who used to scold her for saying 'damn'.

"Please tell me you're joking?"

"Nope, pretty serious here."

"But then what are you doing? Where are you staying? I mean, if you need.." Quinn tapered off, realizing that offering help to Grace wasn't really an option for her.

"Well, you know, graduating from a good university _does_ count for something. I got a job here, as an art history professor. Made some new friends, learnt to use my own brain. It's not all that bad actually. You should come visit sometime, if you can get Daddy to agree. I think you'd like the stuff I'm doing now." Quinn smiled and leaned back on her bed. It felt nice to hear Grace sound so... content. In all the years they'd spent together, Quinn had never heard her sister sound genuinely satisfied or happy, no matter what she had. Grace seemed like such a different person now.

"Daddy doesn't really have any say in what I do these days."

"Having a teenage rebel phase? I always thought you'd go through one of those."

"Well, I guess you could say that... I kinda got kicked out, too."

"I am _so_ sorry... Where are you these days? And what happened?"

"I'm staying with a friend of mine, Rachel Berry. I think you know her." Quinn waited for a response from Grace before saying anything else. She wanted to see just how much her sister had changed.

"I've heard that name before... Oh my God, you're staying with that poor kid we used to torture? Shit, she actually took _you_ in? Like, for free?"

"Yup. I was the one who didn't want to go. She's actually doing me a huge favor."

"Girl must be a saint. I made her life hell, and she's still helping you. Do convey my most heartfelt apologies to her."

"I'll do that."

"So why were you kicked out of the coven, exactly?"

"Um... I'm pregnant." Quinn heard something that sounding distinctly like snorting on the other end, followed by loud coughing. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I just- Oh crap, hold on a sec... Yeah. I just choked on my drink."

"Grace!"

"No, I'm not laughing at _you _or anything. I'm just trying to picture Daddy's face when he found out. Who's the baby daddy?"

"This guy from school, Puck."

"But I thought you were with what's-his-name? That really sleepy looking guy."

"Long story."

"Okay, some other time then. But what are you going to do with the baby? I mean, will you keep it?"

"No way. I cannot raise a baby. Not at this age. And Daddy would never look at me again if I did that. If I give her up for adoption, he'll forget about it as soon as everyone else does." Grace took a deep breathe at the other end before saying anything.

"Quinn, that's not the way life works. Trust me, I found out the hard way. I used to worship Daddy, you know that. But living my life the way he thought was right, and looking at the world the way he did ultimately put me in a very bad place. I was a wreck, Quinn, and when I needed him, when I _really_, for the first time in my life, needed him to be there, he wasn't. I did everything the way _he _wanted because I thought that then he would always be there for me, and he wasn't."

"I'm not _saying_ that I'm doing this for him. I really can't raise this baby. I know I'll end up regretting it."

"And I agree with you. I'm glad that you're doing this. But I just want you to make sure that you don't put Daddy at the center of your universe. He's my father, and if he ever comes to me, I know that I'll forgive him, but I've changed now, Quinn. Coming to L. A, meeting so many different people with so many different viewpoints made me see the world differently. I could never go back to being the way Daddy is. And I know that you're not like that. You were always.. nicer than me. I remember how I was the one who'd trip kids up and you'd help them up."

"You were a damn tyrant."

"Still would have been if all this hadn't happened. Don't look for Daddy's acceptance in everything, Quinn, or you'll ruin your life. You can love him all you want, but don't ask for it back. The only times he'll care about you is when you behave the way he wants, and that's not always the right way. Remember that."

"But I want him to say that he's proud of me. That's all I ever wanted, Grace. He used to fawn over you, and all I ever wanted was for him to do the same to me. I don't care what I have to do, I want him to be able to look at me again."

"Quinn, stop it! If he really loves you, he'll accept you for who you are, flaws and all. Our family is built on this weird craving for perfection, but fact of the matter is that you're human, and so am I. We all make mistakes, Quinn, and you need people in your life who'll care about you despite of them. It took getting kicked onto the street for me to realize that. I have nowhere to go, Quinn, because all my 'friends' were just like me; selfish asses who only cared about their ranking on the social ladder. When I needed someone, I couldn't think of one single person to turn to. If you tune everything in your life to Daddy's whims, that's where you'll end up too, and I just don't want you in that position."

"I thought you never cared about me."

"The first time I saw you, you were fast asleep, sucking on your thumb. I thought it was cute… a bit boring, but cute all the same. You're my little sister, Quinn and I've always cared about you. But I never really liked you until a few months ago, because we were always in competition, and you know it."

"I- I don't know how to live any other way. This is who I am, Grace. I can't just change that. I need Daddy to accept me."

"This isn't who you are. This is who you've turned yourself into, and I know it'll be a helluva lot easier for you to turn back... Tell me honestly, if you hadn't been kicked out, would you ever have bothered to find out where I was even if you did see Jarad?"

"Yes."

"Honestly, Quinn."

"I- No. And I probably wouldn't have told anyone, either."

"Do I really need to say anymore?"

"But-"

"Hey, listen, we don't need to argue about this. I told you something I thought would help you, and now I just want you to have an honest conversation with yourself. And after that, if you need any help, you know my number. So just think about your life, Quinn. Think about who you are, who you really want to be, and if you think you could possibly make yourself a better person. Just take some time."

They spent the next fifteen minutes chatting about more trivial, much lighter things, and when Quinn hung up, she felt so incredibly stunned. She almost felt that she'd talked to a different person. It made her wonder whether Grace had really changed or not, but then when she thought about it, she knew that going through the things that Grace had would change someone. She knew all about life changing experiences first hand.

And after that, she was forced to do a little introspection. She tried again and again to return to what had happened a few nights ago, to how wonderfully soft Rachel had felt, to how she wanted to do that again, with both of them awake, but every time she wandered even close to those thoughts, she'd feel the most terrible amount of embarrassment take over; almost as if there were people in the room with her, watching her and inspecting her thoughts. It felt too real, the censuring that she had imposed on herself. And so Quinn abandoned that particular train of thought for now.

* * *

"Rachel, can you come in here for a minute?"

"What is it, Daddy?" Rachel poked her head into Joseph's room, seeing him busy poring over some rather bulky folders. This was an unusual sight, since Sam was generally the one who was engaged in paper-work.

"Honey, I need you to do me a _huge_ favor." He looked up at her and motioned for her to come sit next to him. She looked at him warily, but came anyways, not sure of what he was going to ask.

"There was a little problem down at the center. One of the dorms had a ceiling leak that's turned problematic, and the kids can't stay till it's repaired. It won't take more than a day, but still, they do need somewhere to go, right? So we're fitting some of them in the other rooms, but there's not enough space for everyone, and I don't want to squeeze them too much. That's why a few of the guys at the shelter agreed to take one or two of the kids with them."

"And you were one of those guys, right?" Rachel smiled exasperatedly at Joseph. He had founded the only LGBT shelter in the locality, seeing the increasing number of children who were having a problem with obtuse parents, and more often than not poured his heart and soul into it. Like now, for instance. She knew that her dad couldn't possibly have refused to help those kids since she'd seen something similar happen before as well. Joseph would sometimes bring home a particular child whom he felt was too disturbed to stay with the others before some help, but that had been rare, and never more than one.

"Yup. I couldn't make those kids feel like we didn't want to keep them with us. So if you could sleep with Quinn for the night? Please?"

"If Quinn says yes, why not?" Rachel shouted down the hall for Quinn, who came into Joseph's room, pretending to be absorbed in her cellphone.

"Quinn, could you and Rachel sleep together today?" Her head shot up at that, not quite believing he'd said that.

"Excuse me?"

"I know it'll be a bit inconvenient, given your condition, but a few kids from the shelter are coming over tonight, and they really will need the room. I wouldn't have asked if we could adjust some other way."

"Oh, no, no... It's fine. Not a problem at all." Quinn gave Joseph what she hoped was a convincing smile, and headed back down to her room, more than a little apprehensive as to what the night would bring.

* * *

So... reviews always help get two characters into bed together. Often.


	17. Chapter 17

**Title:** My Private Nation

**Pairing:**Quinn/Rachel

**Rating****: **R

**Spoilers:**Takes place after EP 13 'Sectionals'.Contains major part of storyline up until EP22.

**Timeline: **Starts the same day as the previous chapter(Friday). Ends on the next Tuesday.

**Disclaimer:**I don't own Glee, the songs, or even the characters.

**Author's Note: **Un-beta-ed for now so feel free to point out errors. Happy Reading and please R&R. Reviews are my lifeline. They also encourage me to write faster.:)

* * *

_"Sam, that was my brother-in-law. He got married to my sister just a few years ago. And now they're not together and she never even called. I need to know where she is."_

* * *

_She had just been pressing a friendly, caring kiss on Rachel's cheek and the girl had shifted. Quinn couldn't be blamed for that, could she?.. Only this time, she knew she could. She knew that she was the one who had moved, not Rachel. But Quinn had managed to fight this, to deny it, to ignore it, for so many years. She wouldn't stop now._

* * *

_"I was saying that I can get her to hear the tape, but first you take care of Jesse."_

_"You're a damn good bargainer, Ms. Fabray, but it's win-win for me here. I was hoping to get Jesse out of Rachel's business soon. Trust me, I'm not totally clueless, but I didn't have much choice, either."_

_"So we have a deal, then?"_

_"Deal."_

* * *

_"Quinn, could you and Rachel sleep together today?" Her head shot up, not quite believing he'd said that._

_"Excuse me?"_

_"I know it'll be a bit inconvenient, given your condition, but a few kids from the shelter are coming over tonight, and they really will need the room. I wouldn't have asked if we could adjust some other way."_

_"Oh, no, no... It's fine. Not a problem at all." Quinn gave Joseph what she hoped was a convincing smile, and headed back down to her room, more than a little apprehensive as to what the night would bring._

* * *

"You've done what I told you to, Jesse. Remarkably well, aside from your... creative deviations."

"Thank you. But I still need to get her to actually hear the tape." Jesse stood with his hands behind his back, managing to look submissively respectful even though he was the taller of the two.

"I don't actually think you'll need to do that."

"Why?"

"Because I've found a moderately safer option, the details of which I'll share with you later. But let's just say that the only thing left for you to do is to get out of Rachel's life."

"Right now?"

"Right now would be excellent. I assume you've already started distancing yourself from her?"

"Um... Well, yeah. I don't call her much anymore. And we don't hang out either. But Shelby, I don't think it'll go down to well with her."

"I get that, but what else can we do?" Shelby started tapping her nails on the desk, a clear indication that she was more than a little worried. She'd never been able to understand the impact that Jesse would have on Rachel's life. The two kids were very similar to begin with, and adding Jesse's charm to his never ending enthusiasm for show tunes left her with a completely and totally infatuated teenager on her conscience. Not the sort of thing that helps you sleep better at night. Well, not if you're the teenager's mom, anyway.

"I don't know, but like I said before, I'd prefer not to trample over her heart. She really is rather fragile, and after the way Finn has treated her..." He trailed off, knowing that Shelby would understand what he was saying. They'd already talked about most of the things Rachel had told him. It may be considered an invasion of the girl's privacy in a way, but that couldn't be helped. And he never really told Shelby everything Rachel had said about wanting to meet her mom. He thought that maybe that was something best left for the two of them to say to each other. Instead, he'd just assured Shelby that Rachel really did want to see her.

He had been jealous, in a strange sort of way, when Shelby had first revealed her true intentions to him. He'd seen something in her eyes, the sort of fierceness and protectiveness he'd always longed for from his own parents, and it had bothered him. Shelby was... She was there. There was never really any replacement for absent parents, but she was really the only stable adult figure in his life, and now she had someone else too. But over time, Jesse had come to understand that there were people who could accommodate more than one person in their lives. Just because she wanted to be with Rachel didn't mean that she cared any less for the rest of them.

Rehearsals were more grueling than ever, and Shelby always gave each and every one of them her hundred percent. He had purposely taken to asking her more questions, giving more suggestions and generally trying to take up more of her time whenever he was present, which wasn't really that often lately. But she'd never shrugged him or anyone else off, and that worked as some sort of reassurance. And Shelby did deserve to be happy, which she would be if, and that was a very big if, this thing worked out.

"Jesse? You were saying something?" She looked up at him expectantly.

"Yeah... I was saying maybe I could- Maybe I could not completely screw her over. Like, I could break off our romantic association, but remain on friendly terms. At least that would assure her that I didn't find her intolerable or anything similar."

"You really do care about her, don't you?"

"I suppose so. Not as anything more than a friend, but I do understand the situation she's in. Now she does have a few friends, but I suspect that even out of them, Quinn's the only real one. I understand how rejected she feels due to her drive to succeed, and I wouldn't like to add to that if I could avoid it." Shelby though about her little arrangement with Quinn, and wondered if it was worth it to put another of Rachel's relationships at risk. Was meeting Rachel really more important than keeping her from getting hurt?

Shelby's entire life had been about failed and deceptive relationships. She'd gotten hurt more times than she'd like to count, and in various ways. The experience had jaded her to such an extent that the only people she trusted were kids who's life she knew inside and out, not that she'd ever admit it. She had wondered on numerous occasions if it was fair of her to invade Rachel's life like that.

"Well?" Jesse was looking at her a bit quizzically.

"I'm not sure, Jesse. Wouldn't it be better to make a clean break? Leave no room for confusion? If you still stay in touch with her, she wouldn't be able to get over you."

"Honestly, given her other option, I'd much rather she wouldn't."

"What on earth is that supposed to mean?"

"Shelby, come on... I- I mean... Um... "

"It's fine, Jesse. Just get on with what you were saying."

"Yeah. Well, what I meant is that the person she'll turn to when I break up with her is Finn, and trust me, that's not a good thing. That boy is not good for her. I doubt he's good for anyone, at this point in time."

"Did he do something to her?" Shelby eyed him suspiciously. He'd only ever said that Finn was the giant ex-boyfriend, but nothing out of the ordinary.

"Not exactly, but he's much too immature for Rachel. She needs a stabilizing factor in her life, and that's something Finn cannot be. He's too caught up in figuring out his own life to be of any use to anyone else. And either way, he's boring." Shelby let out a little snort at the distasteful look on Jesse's face. He classified anyone who didn't know as much as him about Broadway as boring, so that couldn't be taken too seriously.

"I should never have sent you to her. And you should never have... courted her." She didn't want to use the word 'seduced' in relation to Rachel, even if she didn't know her yet.

"It's just a little late to think about that now, right?"

"I didn't know, Jesse. I had no idea that she'd get this attached to you, or I wouldn't have asked you to go."

"Honestly, neither did I, or I probably wouldn't have been so forward with her. I just thought dating her would be the fastest way to get the job done. I didn't realize that Rachel would be so... intense. I should have guessed, considering she is so committed to anything she does, but I didn't think that it would extend to her relationships. Never did for me."

"Of course it didn't. You think I don't remember all those girls lining up at my doorstep? If there was one thing I liked about you being with Rachel was that I didn't have to deal with all of them."

"What can I say? I'm irresistible."

"Uh huh. But getting back to the point, are you sure you can do what you're saying?"

"Positive. I can convince her that breaking up is beneficial for both of us while making sure she knows that I'd like to continue as her friend. And my reasons are all concrete. My parents coming back, me having to move to L. A soon."

"Your parents are coming back?"

"You think?" he said, a certain bitterness lacing his voice." But what's the harm in saying it, right? And my uncle won't mind or anything. He thinks I'm old enough."

"Maybe he won't mind, but I'm not particularly comfortable with the idea of you staying alone."

"I'll be fine."

"As you were when you broke your foot because you were so sleepy that you didn't notice the stairs."

"That was once. _Once_. It's not like it's a habit."

"Still. Why don't you stay with Gio for some time? He's got a large house, and his parents are rather fond of you. I'm sure they won't mind."

"How'd you..?"

"How wouldn't I? So, will you go there?"

"If you say so." He shrugged his consent, knowing there was no point in arguing. Shelby didn't exactly broadcast it, but she cared a lot about the kids, and he knew that she was probably more worried about his safety than the majority of his family. So instead of fighting, he accepted her concern for what it was and mentally began preparing to return to his school. Maybe he could just move back to his own place. It's not like she'd ask for a report or anything.

"Excellent. Oh, and Jesse?" she said as he turned to leave." I will be calling them and making sure that you get settled in properly." Damn. She didn't miss a thing.

* * *

"Quinn, please. I would get down on my knees and beg, but the floor is much too hard. Please just get here and go to sleep already," whined Rachel for what seemed to be the fiftieth time. Although it was Friday night and there was no need for them to sleep early, it was part of Rachel's routine and she was feeling very, very sleepy. But Quinn stood at the window, one foot propped up against the ledge, refusing to come to bed. She said she didn't feel sleepy.

"You go to sleep. The lights are off, and I'm not even making any noise. Just go to sleep, Rachel, and I'll come to bed when I'm tired." She didn't look at Rachel as she spoke, resolutely staring out of the window. They'd pulled out Rachel's bed so that now it could accommodate both of them, and in all honesty, Quinn wasn't too keen on sleeping with Rachel. She didn't think she'd actually get any sleep that way. But that wasn't because she liked Rachel. Oh no, not at all. No, it was just because with the baby bump taking on the shape of an over inflated football, it was impossible for her to sleep comfortably in one position. She needed to toss and turn way too much, and being the considerate person that she was, she didn't want to disturb Rachel. That was all. Really.

Except for the tiny little fact that she thought she may not be able to keep herself away from Rachel if they got into the same bed together. The days of avoidance and false pretenses hadn't made it any easier for Quinn to forget what had happened. It had always worked before, but then that had probably been because she hadn't been living with any of the girls she'd ever liked.

It was becoming harder and harder for Quinn to keep the events of that night from occupying all her thoughts. She'd done everything, but she couldn't stop returning to the simple fact that she had... Well, that she'd done what she'd done. And the funny thing was, that the more she thought about it, the easier it became.

Quinn hadn't had to think about herself in a very long time. She'd spent most of her life doing and thinking exactly what her father wanted her to, and that meant that she'd never made the effort to get to know herself. She'd discovered that she'd had a more than platonic interest in girls rather a long time back, but knowing that her Daddy puked at the mere thought of gay people, she'd managed to suppress that particular emotion with ease. It wasn't very hard for her to just stop thinking and keep doing everything that was expected of her. The tendency to not introspect was also responsible for her ability to be completely cruel to people without any guilt. You can't be guilty if you never acknowledge that you've done something.

But now, now she finally had the freedom to think for herself, to think_ about_ herself. After the whole pregnancy thing had come out into the open, her father behaved as though she didn't exist, which could or could not be considered a good thing, depending on how you looked at it. But good or not, it did mean that the constant pressure to deliver perfect behavior had vanished from over her head. Now it was more a matter of what she wanted rather than what was the best thing to discuss at dinner parties.

The thing was, that when you live without thinking for the better part of your life, it becomes difficult to suddenly stop doing that. She still couldn't shake the feeling of her dad monitoring and judging her every thought and move. He was inside her head, and she wasn't sure how to get him out, or even if she wanted to. Quinn didn't like the fact that her parents didn't even meet her eye when she saw them on the road. It bothered her that they hadn't once bothered to see how she was doing. She wanted them to be a part of her life again, because good or bad, they were still her parents.

If she ever, ever even remotely considered acting on her feelings, she was very sure that Russell wouldn't hesitate to hold a funeral service for her. Not to mention the backlash she would get from her peers. And this was only if Rachel didn't run off screaming in the opposite direction. Quinn couldn't do that. She was still barely tolerating the changes that had already occurred in her life, and this would be too big, too... drastic for her to handle.

Quinn had managed to keep her feelings in check for a very long time. A few months ago, she'd even managed to convince herself that they were a figment of her imagination. Damn powerful imagination it was. She thought that maybe if she just kept away from Rachel for a little longer, it would go away. She had been in a relationship with Finn, happily so. Maybe that was because she thought of him more as a brother than anything else, and because he was too decent a guy to make her think otherwise. But she'd also slept with Puck. Granted, she didn't remember a single thing, but it still counted, right?

"What's wrong with you?" Rachel had crept up behind her without making a sound, and now she had one hand firmly wrapped around Quinn's waist as she came in front of the startled girl, looking at her enquiringly.

"You've been staring off into space for the last fifteen minutes, Quinn, and I happen to know that's not normal behavior for you," said Rachel, while bringing her free hand to Quinn's stomach. Quinn had, by now, crossed her arms over her chest and was looking away from Rachel, trying to get away from her without making it too obvious.

"Is the baby bothering you? Because you know I can calm her down. Shall I?" The way Rachel was looking at her, with such an amazing amount of naive concern, made it impossible for her to just ignore the brunette.

"No, she's fine. It's not that."

"Then why won't you lie down? It's not good for you, you know, this ridiculously callous attitude that you've adopted toward your health. Going out so much, not taking your vitamins on time, and now this. Really Quinn, you expect this baby to take of herself? Because I'm telling you that's not possible."

"Rachel, please. Enough." Quinn turned away from her yet again, this time fidgeting with the hem of her shirt to avoid talking. What could she say, after all? Rachel simply gave her stomach another pat before taking Quinn's hand away from the shirt and resting it on the window frame. She moved her hand off Quinn's waist and turned the other girl till they were facing each other, Rachel's hands on either side of Quinn.

"Is this about you moving out?" Quinn's head snapped up at that. Truth be told, she'd forgotten all about that due to the events of the last few days. But Rachel interpreted her surprise differently.

"I should have guessed- Quinn, your decision to move out wasn't one that you took in a rational state of mind," said Rachel, ignoring the frown that crossed Quinn's face." But that doesn't mean that it was wrong. Now that I've had time to dwell on it, I realize that it might be a better option for you in the long run. And I'd like to think that our friendship has moved beyond the level where it needs our interdependency to survive. Don't make yourself sick over something that's not much of a big issue to begin with."

"It's not that... No, I'm not lying. It really isn't."

"Then what?" An idea suddenly struck Quinn.

"I'll tell you, but you need to promise that you won't kill me."

"You're pregnant, Quinn. I really wouldn't murder an unborn child. What is it?"

"I... When overheard you and Jesse, I couldn't stop thinking about the tape, so I might have listened to it." Quinn blurted out the entire sentence without a single pause.

"The only word I caught was Jesse. A little slower, please." Quinn took a deep breathe before starting again. When she had repeated herself, she was really glad that Rachel wasn't willing to kill unborn children. Because she sure as hell looked ready to kill Quinn.

"You 'might have listened to it'. Explain to me, Quinn, how you 'might have listened' to something that was stored away in one of my drawers. Did it walk up to you and do a tap dance? On do you sleep walk?"

"You promised not to get angry."

"I did no such thing. You listened to something that was private property, Quinn. That cassette was for me. What made you think that you could just take it?"

"But you were refusing to even look at it. I know you want to know more about your mom, Rachel. I know that, so you need to stop pretending in front of me at least. That tape was yours, agreed, but it wasn't for you to chuck into some dark corner and forget about."

"What I did with it was my choice. My mom, my tape, my damn choice. Why is it so hard for you to stop yourself from snooping?"

"I'm not snooping, I'm trying to help you. You're my friend, Rachel, and I want you to be content, which you're not by the way. Don't bother with the denial speech. I'm not saying that Joseph and Sam aren't enough, or some crap like that. They're the most awesome people ever, and I'm sure that not knowing your mom wouldn't have harmed you in any way. But now that the opportunity is dangling in front of you, you cannot tell me that you don't want to grab it. It's natural curiosity, Rachel. You wouldn't be betraying your dads or anything."

"I- I don- Oh, fine. I want to hear what's on that stupid tape. Are you happy now?" Rachel had let go of Quinn in her frustration, and was now pacing the room, looking very much like a caged animal.

"Are you happy?"

"Y- No. I don't know."

"Obviously."

"Not funny."

"Just try it. Come on, Rachel. Not hearing it isn't doing you any good, and hearing it won't do you any harm either. "

"Maybe it will," said Rachel softly, stopping her frantic pacing and glancing over at Quinn. She looked so genuinely out of sorts that the blonde couldn't help but walk up to her and guide her over to the bed, motioning for her to sit down. Her personal problems, or whatever else you'd like to call them, could wait for a little longer.

"What are you so afraid of?" She cupped Rachel's face in her hands, forcing the brunette to look at her before answering. "It's just me, Rachel. Come on, talk."

"I- You won't understand."

"Then explain. I've heard you're pretty good at it."

"Ha ha. It's just... Well, I've always had a rather elaborate fantasy image of my mother. I'm afraid that I've built up too many expectations and that she won''t be able to live up to them. I'd rather live in the dark with my images than to be faced with who, or rather what she really is and be disappointed."

"Rachel, I- I can't say that you won't be disappointed. I'm not saying that she's some famous Broadway personality and that there's some romantic story behind your birth. I'm not saying that. But I am saying that I think you should give her a chance. At least listen to what she has to say. Because I can definitely say that you'll like it. "

"You think?"

"Uh huh." And before Rachel could change her mind, she slipped the cassette into the player and pressed play, lowering the volume so that it wouldn't drift out of the room. Quinn came back toward the bed and stood next to Rachel as the tape played out, keeping her hand on the other girl's shoulder. She didn't know how Rachel would react, but she hoped that this wasn't the wrong decision. After meeting Shelby, she really thought that given a chance, the two of them could at least find closure, if not a relationship. And that was all one could ask for.

Rachel was quiet for so long after the tape ended that Quinn got worried. She sat down beside the brunette, trying to gauge whether the thin film of tears in her eyes were a good thing or a bad thing. The low hum of the tape persisted in the background as they sat there in silence, Rachel's plans for an early night completely ruined.

It was Quinn who finally broke the silence.

"Well? What are you thinking?"

"She has an amazing voice."

"Um... Yeah, yeah she does. But other than her voice. Anything about her?"

"What am I supposed to say? The song selection was excellent. It's all so... dramatic, so theatrical. And there is the obvious significance of... well, you won't understand that."

"Won't understand what?"

"It's Broadway. Leave it."

"I'm offended by that remark."

"Do you even know the name of that song?"

"The name is not the point... By the way, I know you're deflecting, and it isn't working."

"I am not deflecting. Why would I be."

"Well, let's see; you've talked all sorts of crap about the song and it's significance and the technical details of your mom's voice, but not one word about how you're feeling."

"That might be because I'm not entirely sure."

"That's something to begin with. Good. Just keep going. Blurt out the first thing that you can think of."

"You looked really cute in that sundress."

"About the damn tape, Rachel." Quinn prayed as hard as possible to not blush. Her skin was way too light to conceal the color, and she was not supposed to be blushing when Rachel told her she was cute. Although it did sound sort of nice. Sort of.

"Sorry. I guess I'm happy. I mean, even though we've never met, the theatrical instinct is present in both of us. I would have chosen a different song, of course, but the gist is the same. And it's also rather informative."

"About?"

"The state of her life, of course. I would say that she's rather a lonely woman."

"See! This was good for you. You know something about your mom now."

"It was a guess, Quinn. A guess based on a song she recorded. For all we know, she may have recorded this for the very purpose of misleading me, of making me believe that she led this sad, tragic life, whereas the truth may be completely different. How am I supposed to trust the authenticity of this? It's just a song."

"No it's not, and you know that way better than me. Rachel, seriously, are we even doing this? Am I having to convince you, Rachel Berry, that a song is not just a song? You're just trying to avoid the fact that your mom is trying to reach out to you."

"I don't want to talk to you about this."

"Then who would you like to talk to instead? I'm not sure I can make alternate arrangements in the middle of the night."

"Well, you are Quinn Fabray. I wouldn't put it past you."

"True," said Quinn as she flopped back down on the bed. She winced slightly and moved into a half seated position. She'd almost forgotten that her back seemed to have some sort of permanent grudge against her.

"Would you stop doing that? God, Quinn, one would think that you could remember a simple detail such as 'lower yourself onto the bed gently'. But no. You have to go and throw yourself down, don't you? Idiot," said Rachel, shuffling on the bed to move closer to Quinn. "Why are you staring at me like that? I'm not the one trying to do irreparable damage to your body... Will you move already? Let me get a good grip." And before Quinn could register what was happening, she had been hoisted, rather gently, into a sitting position while Rachel positioned herself behind Quinn, tucking her legs under herself and placing both hands on the blonde's back.

"What on earth? Get off me!"

"I wish you would relax, Quinn. It's not like I'm trying to molest you or anything. I know what I'm doing, okay?" And she really did. Rachel had taken various summer courses on physiotherapy since she was very focused on taking proper care of her body. She knew what Quinn's problem was, and proceeded to apply pressure on her shoulders, trying to work the knots away. She couldn't understand what had gotten the other girl so tense.

Quinn, on the other hand, knew exactly what was causing her muscles to lock like steel. What Rachel was doing felt... wonderful. It seemed that she liked to excel in whatever she did, not just singing. Oh God, getting those kinks worked out was as close to heaven as Quinn thought she'd ever get. But even though it felt awesome, she couldn't manage to forget who was making it feel awesome.

Ripples of cold undulated over her skin, making little pinpricks dance over her arms. This feeling, this reaction to something that was nothing more than an innocent touch, was foreign to her. She barely knew how to react. This wasn't good, and she should ideally have moved away and gone to sleep. But it was good, and so she stayed as she was, forgetting all the nonsensical feelings swirling around in her head and choosing to focus only on the light, gentle relief that the massage brought.

Before Quinn had even realized it, Rachel had once again moved, this time to the other side of the bed. She opened her eyes to see the brunette looking at her critically. Resisting the impulse to tell Rachel to get back and continue, she gave her a small smile and stretched a little experimentally. A sharp little pop, and then nothing. That irritating, nagging pain in her lower back had all but vanished. If she didn't have a sort of, kind of crush on Rachel, she might have hugged her.

"I will say I told you so. Isn't that better?"

"Much. Thanks Rachel. Where did you learn to do that?" asked Quinn, a small amount of awe coming through in her voice.

"Summer camps. I attended a lot of them. Now if you could please appreciate my effort and try to maybe be slightly gentle? This isn't the cheerleader body that you could toss in mid-air, Quinn."

"Uh huh. I'll try to stay away from trampolines."

"You do that. Now can we please, please sleep?"

"But Rachel, what about your mom?"

"What about her?"

"Aren't you going to try to find out about her? Don't tell me you're not curious, because I know that's not true."

"Find out about her how, exactly? It's a voice, Quinn. She didn't even give me a name to start with, and I am not asking my dads. That would be terribly insensitive."

"Are you telling me that you won't even make an effort? Look through your old stuff or something?"

"Maybe, but now's hardly the time. Tomorrow, I suppose. You can help me, seeing as you're more eager than I am." That was a lie, and both of them knew it. Quinn could see the excitement shining through Rachel's eyes even though the other girl tried her level best to keep her face impassive.

Truth be told, Rachel was scared. Her apprehension and her excitement were competing against each other for dominance, and the outcome was uncertain. Right now, she felt like she did before every stage performance; shivering knees, extreme nervousness, and a strong desire to run in the opposite direction. But then when she did finally get up on to the stage and start performing, the nervousness would fade off to be replaced by an extreme amount of confidence and a huge rush of adrenaline. Even with the issue of her mysterious mom, it was more a matter of Rachel finding her footing than anything. If she just got the little push she needed to start searching, she wouldn't stop till she knew the face behind that voice.

She lay down, pulling the covers over her head and putting a stop to any potential bright ideas Quinn may start sprouting. It took Rachel some time to get her mind to shut down and stop processing everything that was happening, but a bit of deep breathing did the trick, and soon she had slipped into a dreamless sleep.

If only it had been that simple for Quinn. She was feeling much more comfortable now that the pain in her back was gone, but there was something else troubling her, wasn't there?

She was Quinn Fabray, and she'd handled sleepovers before. Too many to count, in fact, unlike the girl currently responsible for her predicament. But this was the one time that she was much too aware of the person next to her, of the slight dent in the bed where Rachel was lying. There had been that time with Santana and Britt when she knew that they were... but anyways, tonight wasn't the same.

Tonight was all about torture, not utter mortification, for Quinn. She couldn't help but think about the brunette sleeping next to her as she heard the girl's gentle breath. She glanced over, unable to help herself, and slid the covers off Rachel's face. She kept the covers clutched in her hand as she watched Rachel. It felt perverted, almost, the way she was looking over at the girl without her knowledge. But it wasn't, because Quinn was curious more than anything. She wondered if seeing Rachel in the exact same state again would make her feel the same way. And it did.

She couldn't help but look over at the peacefully sleeping girl next to her and want to get just a little bit closer. Quinn scooted forward a bit, and now she could feel Rachel's legs pressing against her own, separated by the blanket. She clutched the sheets even harder in an effort to keep her hands to herself, but then she reasoned that this was all just a curious pursuit. What would be the harm if she just... And so she did, reaching one hand out to brush it over Rachel's cheek, very much like the other night.

The sensation still felt the same, but it wasn't, not really. The surreal quality of that day had vanished, to be replaced by something so much more solid. Every time she slid her hands over Rachel's face, it was an action born out of conscious thought. And she knew that there wasn't any other explanation, any way her actions could be interpreted or explained other than her wanting to touch Rachel in a far from platonic way.

* * *

Quinn was just putting her history books back into her locker when it slammed shut, missing her fingers by less than a centimeter. She jumped back a little, only to be forcefully dragged into the first empty classroom in the vicinity by a rather determined looking Santana. She might have fled, given the time, but as it was, Santana had her safely locked up inside the classroom before she could make sense of what had happened.

"S, what the hell are you doing?"

"B said some stuff to me yesterday, and I thought I might as well tell you." Quinn knew the look on Santana's face. They hadn't known each other for less that fifteen years, and she knew that look really well. Either she'd fucked up really badly, or she was going to get fucked up really badly. Not good any way you looked at it.

"Okay," said Quinn more than a little hesitantly. If Britt had said something it couldn't be that bad, right? She was generally on Quinn's side.

"It was about you... and me. Us and our crazy. I don't even know why I'm doing this... Stupid thing. But it's true, and you know, there isn't much time."

"Uh huh." Quinn couldn't follow anything that Santana was saying, but then the other girl had always had a problem with words. Or at conversations.

"I'm not making any sense, right?"

"No, you're not."

"Okay, let's do this properly. Sit… Good. Now listen."

"S, I have class."

"Mr. Shue thinks you're in the nurse's office. Baby issues."

"S!"

"I had to talk to you, and Coach Sylvester is keeping too many practices. This is the only time I'll get."

"Fine. Let's talk."

"I'm captain, Q. I'm finally on top, and I'm not going to appreciate you shaving your baby bump off and coming to screw with my life."

"Excuse me!"

"Just shut up and listen. I'm not gonna like it, and let's face it, you are going to do it. There isn't much time left, is there?" she asked, looking at Quinn almost remorsefully. Quinn simply sighed and nodded, accepting the inevitable truth. Santana was absolutely right and there was no point trying to deny it. Who would she be lying to, anyways?

"Yeah, that's why I want you to... Just for the record, I don't want to say this. But anyways, for whatever time is left, I need you to let me be your friend." Quinn couldn't help but let out a small gasp of disbelief. She regretted it the moment Santana looked at her. She knew how hard this was for the other girl, and making her feel mocked wouldn't help.

"Aren't we already friends?"

"Who're you trying to kid? We were friends, and then I joined the Cheerios ,you got knocked up and now I just... We were friends, Quinn."

"Then why this sudden need for bonding now that you've decided that we're not friends?"

In all honesty, that had hurt. Quinn knew that Santana was right; the atmosphere in which they'd landed themselves had poisoned their friendship to such an extent that the only reason Quinn wasn't being tortured was because she was in Brittany's good books.

But they had been friends, rather good friends, at one point in time and it pricked her to know that this was yet another relationship she had managed to throw down the drain in her drive for so-called perfection.

"I told you, this is the only time we have left. I'm gonna take you down once you have the baby."

"Real comforting, Santana. I'd love to be friends with you after that bright prospect."

"I don't like this any more than you do, Q. But don't tell me you want to waste this chance as well. I haven't changed much, and you know that you could trust me before."

"We were on the same side before."

"Yeah right," Santana scoffed, almost daring Quinn to respond to the sarcasm.

"We were! Why do you think I never told Coach about you and Britt?"

"Because it wouldn't matter to her. You know she doesn't care about who you sleep with unless you walk funny at practice or something. And you didn't tell my parents because they would just kick me out; what good would it have done you?" There was no point continuing this argument. What Santana was saying was right. They hadn't been on the same side for a very long time. There were some people who could remain in competition and still maintain a friendship. Quinn and Santana weren't those people.

"How do I trust you?"

"I dunno. Look, I want to sort out a few things for you, and I'm really not messing with you here. You want to believe that, you do so, but even if you don't believe me, it'll be your loss." Typical Santana - be friends with me, we don't like each other, I'm gonna sort out your life. She wasn't big on discussing plans beforehand.

"There is nothing in my life that you can possibly sort out."

"Why? It's plenty messed up as far as I can see."

"True. But nothing for you to help with. You can't adopt the kid, nor can you erase my parents memory. And I know you don't know how to turn back time."

"Oh those weren't the problems I was talking about." Santana gave Quinn what could be called a feral grin and Quinn knew, she just knew, what Santana was referring to.

"Then what?" said Quinn, keeping her face blank. She sure as hell wouldn't be the one to say it.

"Don't play dumb. It doesn't suit you."

"I have no idea what you're going on about."

"Fine. Let's spell it out, if that's what you want. You, Quinn Fabray, ex-Head Cheerleader and disgraced pregnant dimwit, have the hots for Rachel Berry, current Mayor of Loserville. That is, you like her, have romantic feelings for her, may possibly want to jump her, judging from the way you look at her."

"You've lost it."

"Don't do that. If I could just record even one session of Glee, you'd know what I'm saying. I bet you know already, and just don't want to say it. "

"Santana, I do not like Rachel- I mean, I do, but not the way you're thinking." Damn it. Why couldn't she be a little forceful in her denial?

"Q, you look like an overripe tomato. You definitely like her."

"No I don't. If that's what you called me here for, then you're just wasting our time. Now get the hell out of my way." Quinn had stood up by now, and she was attempting to force her way past a smirking Santana.

"Or what? You'll get the kid to give me a kick? Sit down, Q. You're not getting out of here till I'm done."

"Let me through." Quinn knew full well that she couldn't tackle Santana, but her tone was enough to scare off even the bravest people. Not that Santana looked affected.

"Just... Just let me say what I have to, okay? Then you can go. I'm not ambushing you or anything." Santana felt that maybe she'd been a little too upfront the first time. Considering that this was Quinn, she should have maybe said a little something else before declaring that the girl was gay for Berry.

"Thanks. Now listen. I'm not trying to push you into a corner or anything, but Q, I've been seeing it for way too long and I can't just not say anything now."

"But S, you've got-"

"Don't tell me I've got it all wrong, 'cause I know I haven't. Just say it, Q. It's not that hard. There's just two people in this room, and none of us are going to say anything to anyone."

"How do I know you won't go and tell someone?"

"Tell who? Do you get the fact that your rep is sub-zero right now? And your parents have already kicked you out. Who would I tell and what difference would it make? Just say it. It's really simple. Just say- I like Rachel. As in, like her, like her." Santana was getting moderately impatient now even though she knew that this was difficult for Quinn.

"I- I like- No, damn it. I don't."

"One more time. We're not getting out of here till you do this."

"Why are you doing this? Let me go, S. Please." Quinn looked as if she was in genuine distress, tears threatening to fall from the corners of her eyes.

"God fucking damn you, Fabray," said Santana, " I'm doing this so that you don't turn out as crapped up as me."

"Huh?" Quinn really was in a bad state, or she would have figured out what Santana was saying.

"Were you born this stupid or did you take a diploma? I'm talking about me and Britt, idiot. I- I told her all sorts of stuff about how sex isn't dating and she totally believes it now."

"But you don't want her to?"

"No, Q, I'm really enjoying her accounts of how she's slept with everyone except Kurt."

"S, I didn't kn-"

"I didn't know either. It's not fun, Q. Trust me, it's not fun. So I'm doing you such a huge favor here that you should be licking my shoes. Now say it."

"I- But what if... I don't know. Maybe it's just a phase or something. She's the only person I'm talking to right now. Maybe it's just that."

"Or maybe you're just scared shitless. What you say here doesn't have to mean anything more than you want it to. But you need to admit it, Q. And till you admit it out loud, I know that you won't admit it at all."

"My parents, S. They'll never talk to me." Quinn felt a bead of sweat trickle down the side of her face even though it wasn't particularly warm.

"They don't have spy cams installed here. Just me and you... Come on, Q. We don't have too much time."

"I- I think I- Oh God... I like Rachel Berry." It all came out in a fumbled, rushed breath, but it did come out and the silence that followed testified that both of them had heard it loud and clear.

"Like her, like her?"

"Yes." There was a tad more confidence in Quinn's voice now, and Santana smiled.

"Good. This is good for you, Q."

"No it isn't. I'm not allowed to be like this."

"It's not actually a disease or anything."

"If the entire town thinks it's a disease, then it might as well be one."'

"That's not the way it works. It doesn't matter what they think. No one even knows yet, and they don't have to know till you tell them. I just wanted you to tell yourself. You needed to say it to someone else to actually believe it yourself."

"Wh- How did you know that?"

"That you liked Berry? Well, you do kinda drool when you see her."

"No, I mean the whole saying it to someone else thing."

"That... Um, been there, done that."

"With who?'

"We playing twenty questions or something?"

"You locked me in a class. I can ask."

"True. After B and I... well, you know, after we did it," said Santana, sounding unusually bashful, " I was way more freaked out than you. She _is_ actually the only girl I've been with, even though no one seems to believe that." Making Quinn blurt out her own feelings seemed to have put Santana in some sort of a rather rare confessional mood, and Quinn was smart enough not to interrupt.

"She was super excited about it for some reason, and I thought that she might tell someone. It was special for her then, and I knew that, so I had to make it normal. That's why I gave her some crap about how sex wasn't dating and we were just doing it to pass time and stuff. It worked after I convinced her hard enough, and there we were, back to normal. But then if sex isn't dating, I can't tell her not to date someone else, right?"

"I thought you were dating other people too." Quinn couldn't help but question what appeared to be a double standard.

"Ever heard of jealousy? Britt apparently hasn't. I'm barely seeing_ anyone_, and nothing serious or anything. I thought she might mind if I dated guys, but it's like she doesn't care... It'll kill you, Q. I swear it will, seeing Berry date someone else. With B, at least it's never long. Berry is too intense. You'll hate it." Quinn knew that the last sentence wasn't about her at all.

"I'm sorry, S. I didn't think that it was like that. I just- I assumed you didn't want to date her."

"Why does everyone think that?"

"You seem like that. I mean, you were the one who told Rachel never to say no."

"You were the President of the damn Celibacy Club and look at you now… I do what I have to to get by, but I can be different if I have the motivation for it." She shrugged off her own sentence as if it wasn't important, but it was one of the most honest things she'd said about herself to anyone else.

The bell rang just then, pulling them out of their thoughts. The time that they had spent together, the vulnerability of it all, would probably never come again. Santana was right; there wasn't much time left to be friends. But they would use what they had. There was still some time to be able to lean on each other before they had to shove each other away. Very little, though.

* * *

Review for more of Santana's epicness.


	18. Chapter 18

**Title:** My Private Nation

**Pairing:**Quinn/Rachel

**Rating****: **R. They're so, so obviously in love. Secretly. And they are so, so obviously both girls. Not so secretly. Femslash, in case you didn't get it.

**Spoilers:**Takes place after EP 13 'Sectionals'.Contains major part of storyline up until EP22.

**Timeline: **About a week later.

**Disclaimer:**I don't own Glee, the songs, or even the characters.

**Author's Note: **Un-beta-ed for now so feel free to point out errors. Happy Reading and please R&R. Reviews are my lifeline. They also encourage me to write faster.:)

* * *

_"Thank you. But I still need to get her to actually hear the tape." Jesse stood with his hands behind his back, managing to look submissively respectful even though he was the taller of the two._

* * *

_"I don't actually think you'll need to do that."_

_"Why?"_

_"Because I've found a moderately safer option, the details of which I'll share with you later. But let's just say that the only thing left for you to do is to get out of Rachel's life."_

* * *

_The surreal quality of that day had vanished, to be replaced by something so much more solid. Every time she slid her hands over Rachel's face, it was an action born out of conscious thought. And she knew that there wasn't any other explanation, any way her actions could be interpreted or explained other than her wanting to touch Rachel in a far from platonic way._

* * *

_"I- I think I- Oh God... I like Rachel Berry." It all came out in a fumbled, rushed breath, but it did come out and the silence that followed testified that both of them had heard it loud and clear._

_"Like her, like her?"_

_"Yes." There was a tad bit more confidence in Quinn's voice now, and Santana smiled._

* * *

"And then I woke up. It was totally dreamy," said Finn, nodding and poking Rachel even as Quinn watched them from her place on one of the higher chairs, sulking away to glory. She couldn't be blamed for her sour mood, though, and nor could the baby, for now at least. Jesse had finally broken up with Rachel after a few days of side-stepping and, as Mr. Schue had informed them with a long face, gone back to Vocal Adrenaline.

He had however, been nice enough to not crush Rachel completely. Quinn had sat with the other girl for over two hours as she stayed on the phone and listened to Jesse explain rather patiently his reasons for ending their relationship. He'd been sweet and kind and genuine enough to convince Rachel that it wasn't her fault in any way and their relationship had met a premature end due to bad timing on the part of his parents. Quinn had to give him credit; he'd made it sound like he was going back to Carmel because he was breaking up with her and couldn't bear the torture of seeing her everyday and pining after her. Jesse's words, not Quinn's.

So Rachel wasn't devastated for more than four days. That was the upside. The downside being that Finn had finally figured out, after consulting ten people, that Jesse leaving McKinley and breaking up with Rachel meant that she was totally available. And so he was leaving no stone unturned to woo her back into his frighteningly huge arms.

Of course, Finn being Finn, these efforts usually consisted of him giving her weird half-smiles and dazed looks which he probably thought were cute. And nodding along to her songs in a way that made him look a bit like a pigeon. Oh, and also the eyebrow raise. And the setting of the jaw like he was thinking something serious while in reality he only looked constipated because of it.

Of course, all of this wasn't really that irritating till you considered the fact that he'd slept with Santana while shooting Rachel and Jesse wounded puppy looks. Slept with her twice. Santana had let that little tidbit of information slip a few days ago, and since then every stupid, moronic thing Finn did became magnified ten-fold in Quinn's head. That idiotic, crass little... She was so, so close to getting out of her chair and strangling him.

Meanwhile, Santana was watching Quinn shoot daggers at Finn and enjoying herself immensely. She kept one ear out for what Mr. Schue was saying about the choreography, but other than that, her attention was focused on the brewing drama. It was more than a little fun to see something happening that didn't involve Kurt or Puck. Which was partly why she'd lied about sleeping with Finn twice. It had only been once, and about four seconds long, but a little white lie would only help in this situation.

She could see it had been the perfect idea by the looks Finn was receiving. That idiot remained oblivious to the fact that someone was starting at him as if they wished to bury him alive, and she was actually getting a little worried at how Quinn was inching closer to Rachel and Finn. Not that a little cat fight would be a bad thing, but she was pretty sure Quinn wouldn't be ready to explain to everyone why she tore his eyes out for no apparent reason.

And so Santana did something very nice without Brittany prompting her from the side; she went up to where Rachel and Finn were standing and engaged the boy in a conversation, making full use of her hands to make sure all of his attention was now on her. She kept touching him lightly and leading him away from where Rachel was. His eyes were focused on her, and although it was clear he couldn't understand much of what she was saying, he still listened intently. Santana was good at keeping people hooked onto her.

Quinn watched the scene play out with mixed feelings of curiosity and relief. She could see what Santana was doing, but didn't understand why. The other girl had been very specific about her dislike for Finn. He was just a little too sugary to be her type.

But as the girl turned and winked at her over her shoulder, Quinn got it. She should have been more than a little grateful for Santana's intervention, and she almost was, but the look on Rachel's face was something she just couldn't be happy about. The girl looked crushed at the way Finn had sidelined her yet again. Why couldn't she understand that that oaf was a lost cause?

"Penny for your thoughts?" Kurt had come up behind an unsuspecting Quinn, startling her. He shot a look in the direction she'd been gazing and then at her, all while taking a seat and making himself comfortable. Or as comfortable as one could be in those ridiculously tight pants.

"Kurt!... Don't sneak up on me like that."

"I apologize. I didn't mean to frighten you, but you just looked so sullen. The negative vibes will wreck havoc on my digestive system. Terrible stuff. So I thought I'd ask - what's the matter with you?"

"Huh?... Oh, the matter... Nothing. was just thinking about what Mr. Schue said. You know, turning up the energy levels a bit? I didn't realize I'd drifted off."

"Not to worry. Happens to me all the time. I'm thinking of something and I just get so involved in my thoughts that I start staring into space without even realizing it."

"Pity your staring space always seems to have Finn in it, right?" She gave him a little nudge to let him know the teasing was all in good humor, but he shot her another eerie look.

"Precisely." What the hell? But Kurt seemed to have dropped the topic for now as he turned to the front again, appearing to give his full attention to Brittany and Mike's new dance routine.

Quinn heaved a sigh of relief and looked away from him, glad that he wasn't pestering her. Santana had been okay, mainly because if she hadn't listened, Quinn knew the other girl would have hosted a gay pride parade and made her the main attraction. Santana had a certain, rather loud way of getting things done and Quinn wasn't sure she wanted to be in the middle of that. Kurt, on the other hand, could be avoided. Or so she thought.

As she made a move to get up, he pressed the very tips of his fingers lightly onto her wrist, gently pushing her down again. Again, he continued to look forward as he started to say something and then stopped, taking a deep breath.

"I... I didn't join Glee Club because I wanted to fit in or any ridiculous notion of that sort. Nor, for that matter, because I had a good voice. No, the reason I joined Glee was because... Well, I knew I would never be one of those nice, popular people in school, but I was going to chose the reason for people mocking me. I refused to be laughed at every day for being gay. It was pretty obvious, even though I denied it, but I was under the illusion that if I gave them something else to torture me about, the whole sexuality thing would go out of focus."

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"Because... Well, because we're friends. Just thought I'd tell you something about myself. That's what friends do, right? Share."

"Uh huh."

"Don't worry. We're not going to be braiding each other's hair and giggling about boys anytime soon. All I was trying to say is that somethings are obvious. Even if you try to cover them up and shove them away, they're as obvious as that blood that's been splattered in the janitor's closet for years. No point trying to say it's strawberry sauce, because that only makes people even more convinced that someone was murdered there… Too obvious, Quinn. Far too obvious." And with that he got up and moved to the seats behind her again, continuing his conversation with Tina.

He had no way of knowing how Quinn would react to his words. Kurt was just trying to help out, in his own peculiar way. He wasn't good with all the emotional mumbo-jumbo, not matter what people may think, and there was no way in hell he would have a heart-to-heart with Quinn. But he did want to save her from months, maybe years of struggle by pointing out the fact that there was no point in denying your true identity. The lies always caught up, and sometimes they weren't even worth it.

Kurt hoped that she wouldn't misinterpret his cryptic advice as some sort of judgment or warning or something. But then, Quinn wouldn't be Quinn if she didn't try to over-analyze everything. Okay, no, she would. But Rachel had rubbed off on her, which was why taking Kurt's statement at face value was far too hard for her.

And so she sat, rooted to the spot, dissecting very word he had spoken. If he meant what she thought he meant, and she was pretty sure he did, then that could not, in any way, be considered a good thing. At all.

Granted, Kurt, with his perpetual hunger for gossip, was a far keener observer than most people in the school, but hadn't he said 'far too obvious'? If it was far too obvious for is, then it would be obvious enough for the rest of them. McKinley High had a vicious and dangerous gossip circle, and those people would take the smallest of clues, blow them up, and then torment Rachel in far, far worse ways than they had been doing before.

She wasn't too worried about what they would do to her, because Quinn hadn't ruled the roost for such a long time just because she was cheer leading captain. That makes you popular, not powerful. And Quinn was both, simply because she had an uncanny knack of being at the right place at the right time. Right time for her, that is, not for the unfortunate soul she was collecting dirt on. And that ability ensured that she knew more about the deep, dirty secrets of the school than even Jacob. She could shut anyone up in a matter of minutes.

But if the kids in school had any knowledge whatsoever, and they casually mentioned it to their parents, who in turn speedily went and reported it to her parents... her palms started to sweat before she could even complete that thought. They would probably die of shock and then their ghosts would haunt her forever and ever.

"Are you alright?" Rachel asked, a bit concerned by how pale Quinn suddenly looked. She had seen Kurt come up to the other girl and was worried that he may have said something to make her feel uncomfortable. So forgetting Finn for some time, she'd inched toward Quinn, wanting to know what the matter was.

"I... Um... I'm fine. Just a bit hot today." Odd. The weather was pleasant enough today.

"Are you sure you're alright? Wait... Maybe you have a fever." Rachel brought her hand up to Quinn's forehead only to have the other girl jerk her head away, scowling.

"I _said_ I'm fine, Rachel. So will you stop treating me like a two year old and leave me alone already?" The abruptness in Quinn's tone took Rachel by surprise and she brought her hand down.

They still fought a lot; it was inevitable, with Rachel's sensitivity and Quinn's hormones, but even in the screaming, raging cat fights, there was no malice in Quinn's tone, just pure anger. Rachel was no longer used to hearing Quinn speak to her in a tone of voice that made her feel like dirt, and so it hurt even more.

Quinn wanted to apologize so badly the moment the words came out of her mouth, but she steeled herself against Rachel's dejected expression and looked forward. Rachel was just a passing phase and... and even if she wasn't, there were far more important things at stake.

* * *

"A sleepover, also known as a pajama party, is a party most commonly held by children or teenagers..." What on earth was this? Quinn had been putting some of Rachel's old books back in the basement shelves when she'd seen the sheets of bright, fluorescent coloured paper sticking out of a folder titled 'Sleepover'. There was no way that she could have not opened that file.

Inside were a variety of loose sheets; some printed and some handwritten, all with plenty of sticky notes attached in Rachel's loopy handwriting. 'How To Make Your Own Facial Masks', 'Slumber Party Etiquette', 'French Kissing For Fumbling Frogs'. Wait, what? 'French Kissing for...' Good God, that sounded like something that should be made high priority study material for Finn, but what the heck was Rachel doing with this crap? It looked pretty recent, judging by the fact that it was one of the only things on the shelves without a layer of dust on it. What was all this stuff for?

Instead of wasting any more time coming up with absurd theories, Quinn chucked the books into their corner and picked up the folder, heading straight to Rachel's room. If nothing else, it would be awesome material to poke fun at her with. 'Slumber Party Etiquette', seriously? What did that even mean?

Hopefully, this would be one way to diffuse the tension that had been steadily building up between them for the past few days as Quinn continued to give Rachel the cold shoulder at school. It had to be worth something, she thought as she climbed the stairs, her back almost killing her in the process.

She knocked on Rachel's door and was more that a little worried by the shaky "Go away," that came in reply. Was Rachel crying in there? A few stifled sniffs and sobs gave her the answer she was looking for and she barged in, not bothering to ask again. Good thing she did, too, because Rachel was curled up on her bed, trying unsuccessfully to wipe away her tears. She shot Quinn a look of pure hatred as the other girl walked up to her. Quinn took no notice, of course, because she had been duly warned by Rachel's dads about her range of facial expressions, most of which were highly exaggerated.

"Rach, what's wrong?"

"Why do_ you_ suddenly care? Go away."

"Come on, Rachel. Don't be like this. Talk to me."

"Why should I? You've been very keen on showing me the fine art of snubbing these past few days. You're moving out tomorrow anyways, Quinn. So just keep ignoring me till then, and then you can go back to your usual torture regime."

"I... You really think I'd do that?" Quinn's voice was small now, a little unsure of whether it was just the dramatic in Rachel speaking or if this was how she actually felt.

"Of course I do. I thought you'd changed, Quinn. I really thought that maybe you had realized the error of your ways, but I was obviously mistaken."

"That is_ not _true! How can you even say that after I stuck up for you so many times in Glee? Everyone knows we're friends, and I never tried to tell them otherwise."

"Didn't seem like it to me this past week. Your behavior has made it rather apparent that the only reason you were tolerating me was because of the fact that you were staying in my house. Well you know what? That's just fine, Quinn. I'm an obnoxious, irritating, overbearing idiot, and you, like everyone else I know, can't put up with me. I get that, and it's perfectly fine. But do not come into my room and try to feed me your truckload of lies, because I will-"

"Oh shut up already! Can you hear yourself? _'__I'm so sad and pathetic and no one loves me. Boo hoo__.'_ I knew I was going for weeks, and I haven't been acting like a bitch since then, have I? God, Rachel, just because I'm not talking to you doesn't mean I'm ignoring you. Maybe I just had too much homework, or maybe I was just doing a project or something. Ever thought about that?," said Quinn, trying to be as sarcastic as possible without offending Rachel further. Hopefully that would mask the fact that she was lying through her teeth.

"I- I'll admit that I didn't actually think of that. But you are ignoring me, Quinn. Don't lie."

"I wasn't. I swear. It was just that stupid Spanish essay we have to give in, and I've just been feeling a little zapped. That's all. And you obviously have something on your mind."

"Aside from the very obvious fact that you're not taking care of yourself... There's nothing else bothering me."

"Liar, liar, disgusting argyle sweaters on fire. Although that might be a good thing, it's not the point. Point is, that you do have something else on your mind. Those weren't your factory manufactured tears. What's up?"

"I- I- This is stupid."

"Not gonna be able to tell you that till you tell me what it actually is."

"It's not much, Quinn. Really. Just so many things happening at once... It got to me. But I'm fine now," said Rachel, offering Quinn a reassuring smile.

"Care to maybe elaborate on the 'things'?"

"Just... Just things."

"I'm not going till you spill your teensy-weensy guts."

"It's that thing with my faceless, nameless mom... And a bit of Jesse. Don't worry," she said, seeing Quinn's expression tighten, "he was very nice about it, but still. It was nice, you know? Having someone in my life in a romantic capacity. And Finn is..."

"What the hell did he do?"

"Nothing. He's done nothing. Actually, he's been behaving so much better ever since Jesse and I broke up. It's like he's turned over a new leaf. He went and retrieved the calendar I had bought for him and actually-"

"Got it. Got it. But then why is him being nice a problem?"

"It's not a problem... just a bit overwhelming. And the thing with Finn is that... He's always nice and friendly at first, but then..."

"I know. I know all about that. But just tell him to back off if you're not interested right now. If he really cares about you, he'll get it."

"But what if he's not there when I am ready? Finn is a wonderful person, Quinn, and I don't want to lose him just because I'm acting immature."

"You are not acting immature. It's not immature to say no to a relationship you're not ready for. If anything, it's a very grown-up thing to do. And frankly speaking, even if he's not there later, it's not really that much of loss. I know you worship the ground beneath his feet and stuff, but he's not all that great, Rachel. You deserve better."

When she heard that, Rachel couldn't help but appreciate the irony of the situation. She remembered saying the exact same words to Mercedes not too long ago, and now she could relate to the other girl's reply. She may deserve better in Quinn's eyes, but for someone who had gotten nothing at all till Finn, he _was_ better.

"He looks at me like I'm a person, Quinn. Well, he does most of the time. But that's a lot more than any other boy has done till date."

"That doesn't mean he's good for you. That just means he's a little less worse. And plus, there was Jesse."

"That relationship was destined for failure, and both of us were aware of that, no matter how much we tried to delude ourselves."

"Um... Okay?... But anyways, back to that ass. If there's something inside you saying it's not the right time, then it's not the right time. End of story."

"I don't want to be the only girl in school who doesn't go to the prom because she doesn't have a date."

"You won't be. Seriously, worse comes to worse, I'll hook you up with somebody, but that is not a valid reason for being with Finn. I've heard the type of stuff he says to you, and I don't want him to be yet another reason for you to feel bad about yourself."

"He doesn't do that."

"Uh huh. Of course he doesn't. And you don't live in denial land. Naturally."

"Ha ha. Not the least bit funny, Quinn."

"True, it isn't. But I kinda think I know something that is," she said, retrieving the Sleepover folder and watching Rachel turn a brilliant shade of red. Bingo. Instant embarrassment material.

"So... Doing a thesis on sleepovers a. k. a pajama parties a. k. a slumber parties, are you?"

"I... Er... Um... where did you find that?"

"In the basement. So, what's this for?"

"Just some old files lying around. Rather useless junk."

"Yeah, right. You really think I'm that stupid? Come on, Berry, 'fess up."

"I- It's really nothing, Quinn. Leave it alone."

"If it was nothing, you wouldn't be so worked up, now would you? It's just me, Rachel. Talk."

"No. You'll make fun of me for the rest of our lives if I tell you."

"I was going to do that anyways. What difference will this make?"

"Very well then... You see, I've never participated in a sleepover before. So when Daddy mentioned it, I simply thought that it would be better to be prepared." Even though Rachel's words were short and to the point, Quinn could see a hint of... of something in her eyes. A bit of excitement, a bit of apprehension. Rachel had never had any friends, never been a part of all the little things that most people took for granted as a part of growing up. But if she'd looked so much into it, then why...

"Why not use the research then? We never did any of this stuff. And what the heck was the French kissing thing for?"

"Don't you know? I'm surprised. It's common practice for teenage girls to engage in various forms of foreplay during private gatherings in an effort to garner experience for later encounters. Boys substitute the actual touching for forms of por-"

"Right. Okay. Moving _on_. Why didn't we do it?"

"Kissing?"

"Rachel! No. I meant the normal stuff. Like the midnight feasts and stuff."

"Kissing_ is _normal, Quinn. Honestly, I'm shocked at your attitude towards physical intimacy."

"Y-You- I-"

"I would have thought that you would have been more lenient about such things. You were a cheerleader, after all. Didn't you ever try anything with one of your teammates? Santana? Brittany, maybe? I can see why she would-"

"Stop! I have never kissed a... another _girl_. And I never want to. We shouldn't even be talking about this. It's not right." Rachel's questions had been completely innocent, but looking at Quinn, she could see the discomfort radiating off the other girl in waves.

This was the first time Quinn had expressed any problem with the concept of two girls being together. She seemed fine around Santana and Brittany, and she'd never looked twice at Sam and Joseph when they got a little touchy-feely. But then Rachel reasoned that the concept of being gay was something a lot of people were fine with, till it was applied to them. And Quinn with all her baggage... Rachel realized that she should probably just back off for now.

"Of course. Right, about the other stuff... I wanted to. I even had a whole plan ready. I can show you the slides if you like. But you just seemed to out of sorts, so I assumed that it wouldn't be appropriate."

"You really wanted to, didn't you?"

"I suppose so, yes. It was the first time I'd had the opportunity to do something like that."

"I'm so sorry, Rach. I was being a selfish ass. Next time, I promise. We'll do all the crazy stuff you want to."

"Everything?"

"Every damn thing. I promise."

"Yay!"

"Yay?"

"It's nice. Short, but expressive."

The two girls sat there for some more time, talking about stuff... Little stuff, not so little stuff, but nothing to drag the conversation toward a more heavy tone again. Rachel was acutely aware of the fact that this would be the last night that Quinn would be spending at her house, and it just made everything seem... down. She'd gotten so used to the blonde's presence, that even the thought of her not being around anymore was upsetting.

Yes, it was better for them in the long run and blah blah blah, but Rachel, who was so used to thinking long-term, couldn't help but wonder if maybe living in the moment wasn't better. This girl was the only real, dependable friend she'd ever had, and she was slowly but surely becoming the family that she would never have. Quinn could always move out later, right? And maybe after the baby, her parents would soften up, and all their problems would disappear. Not very realistic, but right now...

"Quinn, why can't you not go?"

"Huh?"

"Just... Just stay here for a little longer. Stay with me for some more time. Please?"


	19. Chapter 19

**Title:** My Private Nation

**Pairing:**Quinn/Rachel

**Rating****: **R. They're so, so obviously in love. Secretly. And they are so, so obviously both girls. Not so secretly. Femslash, in case you didn't get it.

**Spoilers:**Takes place after EP 13 'Sectionals'.Contains major part of storyline up until EP22.

**Timeline: **About a week later.

**Disclaimer:**I don't own Glee, the songs, or even the characters.

**Author's Note: **Un-beta-ed for now so feel free to point out errors. Happy Reading and please R&R. Reviews are my lifeline. They also encourage me to write faster.:)

* * *

_"I said I'm fine, Rachel. So will you stop treating me like a two year old and leave me alone already?" The abruptness in Quinn's tone took Rachel by surprise and she brought her hand down._

_They still fought a lot; it was inevitable, with Rachel's sensitivity and Quinn's hormones, but even in the screaming, raging cat fights, there was no malice in Quinn's tone, just pure anger. Rachel was no longer used to hearing Quinn speak to her in a tone of voice that made her feel like dirt, and so it hurt even more._

_Quinn wanted to apologize so badly the moment the words came out of her mouth, but she steeled herself against Rachel's dejected expression and looked forward. Rachel was just a passing phase and... and even if she wasn't, there were far more important things at stake._

* * *

_"Quinn, why can't you not go?"_

_"Huh?"_

_"Just... Just stay here for a little longer. Stay with me for some more time. Please?"_

* * *

"W-What?" The shocked look on Quinn's face made Rachel reconsider her hastiness, but there was no point in backing down now. Quinn's expression wouldn't cow her. Hopefully.

"Don't go to stay with your cousin," she said. "I-I know this is a bit out of the blue-"

"A bit?" asked Quinn weakly, sitting down on the couch.

"Well, more than a bit," Rachel conceded, "but I... There wasn't any other time."

"Oh, so if I hadn't come in today, then you wouldn't have told me at all?" Quinn all but shouted at Rachel, still remaining seated. The knowledge that Rachel actually wanted her to stay was such a big relief, but why the hell had the other girl waited so long?

"No! That's no-"

"Don't lie to me. You wouldn't have said a word, would you?" Quinn already knew the answer to that one. Rachel would have just let her go, both of them mad as hell, and never bothered to even say goodbye.

"I-Well, what do you expect? The way you've been behav-"

"Don't you go and make this about how terrible I am. You-"

"SHUT UP! Shut up and let me talk... Thank you. Now, the thing is... it's just that- This is difficult, okay? This, you and me and all our crazy, is difficult. First we hate each other, then we don't, then you're living with me, then you're not. It's nuts, and excuse me if it took me a little time to process. At least I wasn't like you, snapping at everything that came in my path."

"Was I?"

"Were you what?" said Rachel shortly.

"Snapping."

"Yes. God, I was scared to even look at you for fear of being frozen to death. And I'm willing to bet that you'll never even come out and just say what's bothering you, so I won't bother asking."

"Um... Okay," said Quinn, feeling more than a little relieved. For the last few minutes, she'd been expecting Rachel to start pestering her with the usual determination the other girl showed when she wanted to know something. This wasn't better exactly, judging by the look that Rachel was giving her, but it was the type of bad that she was comfortable with.

"Didn't I tell you to shut up? Anyway, I won't ask you. For now. I will, however, give you such a thoroughly convincing argument that you won't step foot outside this house."

"And that's a good thing?"

"Of course. Now... Um... This is obviously not how I wanted to initiate this conversation, but your little outburst-"

"My!"

"Okay, our little outburst just now basically highlighted the fact that there's something very much the matter with both of us. Like I said, I don't know your problem, and I hope it's not too bad, but I know mine, and it's got a lot to do with you moving away. I know it sounds selfish, but I don't care anymore. I was trying to do the right thing by not saying anything and making you feel guilty, but it's backfired rather spectacularly."

"For both of us."

"So you don't..."

"I'm not sure," said Quinn. "I was angry at you when I said yes, and I think that's probably not the best reason."

"Yeah, you're right. It's not, and both of us were probably aware of that. Which I guess explains the passive-aggressive nonsense that's been going on. But... Well, you're supposed to be leaving tomorrow,"said Rachel as if she was only just realizing that fact herself, "so... The thing is, I've gotten used to you being around. And unless I'm very much mistaken, you seem to be fond of my company as well. Except when you're cranky. Which isn't very often anymore, because I suppose the baby had calmed down. Oh, and speaking of baby, Daddy is-"

"Rachel, you're rambling."

"Oh. Yes, I suppose I am," said Rachel and then fell silent. She knew why she wanted Quinn to stay, and she knew that her reasons were perfect, as always, but then why couldn't she manage to just spit it out? This was why white boards were so much better.

"So?"

"So... Just wait. Let me think," said Rachel. "Okay, I'll say it properly this time. Firstly, all of us are comfortable with our current living arrangement. My dads like you, they're happy having you around for as long as you need. I do too. But for me, it's a little more than that. I think you know pretty well that I haven't had any real friends. Or any type of friends, for that matter. And you... You disliked me, Quinn. A lot. And I wasn't too fond of you either. But then..."

"But then I messed up and Puck stuck his nose into places it didn't belong."

"I was going to say that we got to know each other. But you're right as well. Things happened, and even though I won't go as far as to say that they should have happened, I will say that I'm glad they did. Because I got a friend, and not the type who'll throw me to the sharks at the first chance she gets. You're the best friend I've ever had, Quinn, and you're also one of the nicest people I know. No, don't scoff. It's true. Once you get rid of that facade you've created, you're really, really sweet. And I'd like a little more time to get to know this Quinn."

"You do know her. I mean me. You know me a lot better than most people."

"Which isn't all that much, and you know it. You're intriguing, Quinn, even though I didn't want to admit it for some time."

"You didn't?" Quinn had been under the impression that Rachel wanted to know her better from the time she came to live with the Berry's, and given that Rachel had all but threatened her into it, she couldn't be blamed for that impression.

"No, I didn't. You had- No, you were a lot of things that I wanted to be. I brought you home because I knew that this would be the best place for someone in your position, and since you were living with me, I tried to be polite to you as well. But I didn't want to know you."

"Why?"

"I was afraid that if I got to know the real you, I'd find a decent person. I'd always justified so many things you did and got as you being a manipulative bitch. Excuse the language, but that was that. I didn't want to be faced with the prospect of a person who got things because she actually deserved them," said Rachel, looking down at her hands as she spoke. These weren't things that she wanted to say, but then she didn't want to lie to Quinn either.

"I-I don't understand. I thought you liked me." Rachel looked up at Quinn's tone, and she saw the other girl looking at her almost reproachfully.

"I do like you. No one who knows you could do anything but like you. But I didn't want to know you because I was jealous of you."

"Jealous! You?" asked Quinn ludicrously.

"Why're you so surprised. Is there any girl in our school who isn't jealous of you?"

"I-I know_ they _are, but I never thought you..."

"Never thought I could be jealous? It's an emotion, Quinn, and I'm sure you know I can be pretty emotional."

"Yeah, but this is... You never showed it. I mean, even when we were slushing you, and laughing and commenting on your videos. You never showed it, and you even tried to help me."

"I'm a good actor."

"Obviously a great one," said Quinn, suddenly letting out a humorless chuckle. "We're quite a pair, aren't we?"

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I was pretty much as jealous of you as you were of me."

"Liar. Why would you be jealous?"

"You're the psychic. Figure it out," said Quinn, enjoying the irritated look on Rachel's face for a few moments before speaking. "I thought you already knew, or figured out at least." At Rachel's blank expression, she gave a sigh and continued. "First I spent all my time figuring out what other people wanted me to be and becoming that person. Then I spent all my time reviewing what they thought of me, thriving on the praise, and trying to maintain my image. I never figured out whether I even liked the things I was doing or the person I was becoming. In the end, I was that manipulative bitch."

"No, you-"

"Oh yes I was. I did anything required to get what I wanted, while I wasn't even the one who wanted it. But anyways, point is that you were the polar opposite. You didn't just ignore what people wanted you to be, you went ahead and shoved your 'otherness' in their face. You know what you want out of your life, what your real dreams are, and you're going to achieve them, no matter what anyone else tells you. I envied your self-confidence. I envied the fact that you had two parents who always showed up to all your performances and plays and school meetings even when they were made fun of."

"Oh Quinn," said Rachel, settling herself down next to the blonde and taking the other girl's hands in hers. She could see how this was affecting Quinn; introspection could be very harsh and very painful. "It doesn't matter. All of us have faults, especially the ones who seem perfect. You didn't know any better."

"I told myself that too. But I did know better and I did it anyways. I couldn't even call out my own bullshit."

"That's exactly what you're doing right now. Stop being so hard on yourself all the time. You weren't a nice person. So what? There are so many people who are just downright cruel to others their entire life and who see nothing wrong with their behavior. You did things that you shouldn't have, but you're different now."

"And you know that because?"

"Because the only reason the old Quinn would have been talking to me was because she wanted to tell me that I was growing a beard. And because you wouldn't be feeling all these things if you were the same person." Quinn managed a smile at the last sentence, because the 'feelings' part seemed more than a little ironic. Rachel was more right than she could imagine. The old Quinn had never looked at Rachel Berry with more interest than she did at Kurt or Tina or Jacob. And this Quinn...

"How did we start talking about this?"asked Rachel, looking genuinely confused.

"No clue. Does it matter?"

"Not really. It's nice, though... I like talking to you. Or arguing with you, for that matter."

"As long as we can make up later, right?"

"Um... Yeah," said Rachel, not sure if she'd imagined the flirtatious quality of Quinn's voice. Looking at the girl, who gave her a bright smile, she chastised herself for her ridiculous thoughts. She was spending far too much time in Noah's company.

Quinn, on the other hand, was pretty sure of the tone of her voice. She knew that she shouldn't have done that, and she knew that she'd spend hours fretting about it later, but mischievousness had taken a hold of her just then, when her logic was numbed by the giddiness that came with being near Rachel. She was confusing herself, but it was worth it, to have just one moment when she could see that flustered look on Rachel's face and know that she was the reason for it and not that oaf.

"But, Quinn, our conversation right now was just more reason for you to stay. Don't you see how well we're getting along?" Quinn just nodded, not wanting to say anything just yet. "And if that wasn't enough reason, then I'll get down to the more practical points. You're rather far along in your pregnancy, Quinn, and moving to a different house right now isn't a good idea. Here, we're already settled into a pattern with each other. You'll have to do so much when you shift. Getting all your stuff in order, figuring out the neighborhood and such. It's stressful."

"True."

"And not to mention the fact that you need someone with you all the time. Someone who's knows all your medicines and vitamins. I don't mean to criticize your cousin or anything, but she has her job, and you'll be alone in the house for such a long time. It's not safe for you right now."

"But there's always a phone," said Quinn, fighting to hide her smile. She couldn't resist baiting Rachel when she was in one of her moods.

"A phone, Quinn Fabray, is an instrument designed to convert sound to electricity and vice versa. It' not going to be of any use when there's a fetus trying to tear your uterus apart."

"Ewww! Rachel! Yuck! I did not need that visual."

"Sorry," said Rachel, not appearing the least bit contrite. "But it's true. So basically, everyone's happy when you stay here, it's better for the baby, safer for you, and more fun for me. Will you stay now?"

"I thought you were going to hit me with some hotshot argument."

"I did - I want you to stay."

"_That's_ your argument?" said Quinn, smirking at Rachel.

"Obviously... Or at least it's the most important point of the whole argument."

"I- I don't-"

"Say yes." Rachel Berry was nothing if not determined. Although it had taken her some time to come out with it, now that she'd told Quinn that she wanted the other girl to stay, she was very much set on the idea. Quinn Fabray wasn't going anywhere, whether she liked it or not.

"Rachel, yo-"

"Say yes."

"But Sam and Jo-"

"Quinn, say yes or I swear to God I will-"

"Yes."

"-rip yo- Yes as in you're staying?"

"Yup. Unless you wan-"

"No! I mean, yes. That yes is fine."

"But Rachel, won't Joseph and Sam mind this sudden news?" asked Quinn.

"Have you learnt nothing about us yet? Watch - DADDY!" shouted Rachel, waiting till Sam stuck his head in through the door.

"You called, kiddo?"

"Quinn's changed her mind. She's staying."

"So there's no need to get up early tomorrow?"

"None whatsoever."

"Awesome," he said, flashing Quinn a quick grin. "Nice to know we'll be graced with your presence for some more time. Rachel was getting downright cranky every time I mentioned you leaving. Hopefully she'll be okay now. Anything else, Rach?"

"No, daddy. Goodnight, sweet dreams," said Rachel, blowing her father a kiss from the hand that wasn't attached to Quinn's waist.

"Night, baby. G'night Quinn. Go to sleep soon."

"Goodnight, Sam. I will." Rachel waited till Sam shut the door before getting up.

"Daddy's right, Quinn. You need to sleep. You've been looking increasingly tired lately."

"It's this damn pregnancy. It's like I'm sleeping for two now as well."

"If your body says you need rest, don't ignore it. Come on, get up."

"I'm tired," Quinn whined, stretching her arms out. Rachel threw her a dirty look before taking the proffered hands and dragging the blonde to her feet with a groan.

"Don't pretend. I'm not that heavy."

"Says you. Now get out. Go."

"Eager to get rid of me, aren't you? But come to my room for a minute, will you? I want to give you something," said Quinn, smiling at the way Rachel's body visibly perked up in curiosity.

"What is it?"

"You'll see when you come, won't you?" said Quinn as she went out, knowing that the brunette was right behind her.


	20. Chapter 20

**Title:** My Private Nation

**Pairing:**Quinn/Rachel

**Rating:**R. They're so, so obviously in love. Secretly. And they are so, so obviously both girls. Not so secretly. Femslash, in case you didn't get it.

**Spoilers:**Takes place after EP 13 'Sectionals'.Contains major part of storyline up until EP22.

**Timeline:**Next day

**Disclaimer:**I don't own Glee, the songs, or even the characters.

**Author's Note:**Un-beta-ed for now so feel free to point out errors. Happy Reading and please R&R. Reviews are my lifeline. They also encourage me to write faster.:)

* * *

_"Say yes."_

_"But Sam and Jo-"_

_"Quinn, say yes or I swear to God I will-"_

_"Yes."_

_"-rip yo- Yes as in you're staying?"_

_"Yup. Unless you wan-"_

_"No! I mean, yes. That yes is fine."_

* * *

_"Eager to get rid of me, aren't you? But come to my room for a minute, will you? I want to give you something," said Quinn, smiling at the way Rachel's body visibly perked up in curiosity._

_"What is it?"_

_"You'll see when you come, won't you?" said Quinn as she went out, knowing that the brunette was right behind her._

* * *

Rachel's mind was working overtime trying to figure out why Quinn would want to be dragging her into the Vocal Adrenaline auditorium. Not that she was against spying on them, because really it was one of her favorite things to do generally. But after that debacle of a relationship with Jesse, she'd been avoiding this place. Quinn had understood that, and had even been nice enough to bully other's from New Directions into coming here instead of her. So what was it now?

And how had Quinn managed to get a hold of those pompous, pretentious engraved passes that were required to move around Carmel? Rachel knew that Quinn hadn't been fishing around any dustbins like herself, and as far as she knew, Quinn didn't really have any contacts who could provide passes to her. She'd been badgering Quinn since last night, when the girl had handed a pass to her, but Quinn had refused to budge, only giving her an irritating smile. Twit.

Quinn looked over at Rachel and suppressed yet another smile. This was way too much fun. In fact, the way Rachel was behaving was almost amusing enough to make Quinn forget her nerves. Almost. Because although she'd brought Rachel here, she hadn't told her who she was going to be meeting. She hadn't told Shelby either. It really was a spur of the moment thing, and she'd thought it would be better if neither of them had time to mull over it too much. Knowing the two of them, they would likely have a nervous breakdown at the prospect of actually going through with the meeting and call the whole thing off.

She checked her watch as Rachel sat down. 10 minutes till they started their performance. Just enough time to give Rachel some sort of a filler and not have her run away screaming.

"So... You know how I was at the adoption agency a few days ago?"

"Am I about to find out the point of this excursion?"

"Yes, you are. But only if you don't interrupt me after every second sentence."

"Deal."

"Well, while I was there, I met this woman."

"Some woman from this place?"

"No interruptions or I'll call security. They already know you." And that, unfortunately, was true. Rachel had been found by one of the staff trying to install spy-cams in the hallways, and since then, the security had pictures of her.

"Sorry."

"Someone who was a candidate. She was a bit awkward, but still, a helluva lot nicer than the other nuts I'd met."

"Nice? From Carmel High? Are you sur-"

"Rachel, shut up! The people here are our age. You really think one of them came to adopt?"

"Right. One of the teachers, then?'

"Well, yeah. The Director of VA, actually."

"Shelby Corcoran?"

"The one and only."

"But she's supposed to be a bigger pain than Dakota Stanley." Crap. Quinn had forgotten the fact that Rachel took the time to research the type of underwear her opponents wore. Then how was it possible that she wouldn't already have a preformed opinion of the coach? Shoot.

"Oh come on. You know how people work. You're supposed to be worse than Satan, but in reality, it's just your dress sense that sends people running."

"Haha. Your sense of humor is even worse than your singing, and that is saying something. But let's not argue. Go on," said Rachel, looking perfectly unconcerned with the offended look on Quinn's face.

"We'll come back to my singing, Berry. You're just lucky this is more important. So, like I was saying before being interrupted for the millionth time, I met Shelby, and she wasn't at all like the description you get to hear. Maybe she keeps her personal life separate from her work life, right? She has to be strict with these idiots, but it wasn't like that at the agency. So she was normal, and unlike a lot of the other couples, not bothered by your dads."

"That's nice."

"Uh huh. Which was why I couldn't figure out why they were so flustered when she came in."

"Flustered by Ms. Corcoran? No, that's not possible. All they know of her is what I've told them, and I'm sure they would have mentioned if they knew her."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure they knew her. Knew her pretty well, actually, about sixteen years ago," said Quinn, feeling a little guilty about what a spot she was inadvertently putting Sam and Joseph in. She wasn't trying to imply that they had been deceitful or anything of that sort, but she couldn't deny the fact that they definitely knew who Shelby was from the moment she walked through the door.

"Sixt- Quinn, what are you trying to say?"

"I think you've already figured that out."

"You... You think that she's my mom?" asked Rachel in a hollow voice, not sure of what to make of this piece of information. Surely Quinn was mistaken. Shelby Corcoran? The woman who she'd heard so much about from all sources, who was known for her almost dictatorial, obsessive-compulsive methods that had dragged Vocal Adrenaline out from the gutter. The woman who she had, in fact, bumped into some time ago at their local supermarket.

"I-I'm pretty sure she is. After meeting her at the agency, I got sort of curious about her and I came here... to meet her and just see if there was any, you know... difference. If she was just being all sweet and sickly over there and would behave differently if she didn't feel like she was being scrutinized," said Quinn, hoping that the lie wasn't showing on her face. She didn't mind telling Rachel that she'd spoked to Shelby, but seeing the girl's state made her feel it wouldn't be the best ides. She'd feel as if this was one big conspiracy against her and never allow Quinn to explain.

"And?" asked Rachel, her vocal abilities on auto-pilot. She was staring down at her lap, only half listening to Quinn explain how she'd came to see Shelby and after hearing her, had realized who she was.

It had been a long, long time since Rachel had figured out that she must have a mom out there somewhere. Biology demanded it, and she'd just left it at that. The implications of another person in the world who she might be able to consider a parent had not been something she'd bothered about, simply because the two parents she did have were more than good enough. Had she wished, in moments when having two dads made her the automatic target for jeers and insults, that she had a 'normal' family? In all honesty, yes. But those had been fleeting thoughts, disappearing within minutes, especially as she got older and realized that being normal wasn't the same as being happy.

It had only been a year or two ago when she'd actually wanted to meet her mom to just meet her. No hidden agendas or castles in the air, just the want to explore who this person was; who exactly was the woman who was one half of her?

And now she knew. Or almost knew anyways. Quinn could be wrong, as she reminded herself. She didn't want to get her hopes up only to have Ms. Corcoran inform her that she was a deluded little idiot.

But she didn't have much time to consider all that as the stage was rather suddenly filled with a bunch of teenagers, all looking around aimlessly for a moment before Shelby entered the room, guiding them into their spots. Rachel shrank further into the dark corner of the auditorium and watched Shelby work her magic. The woman was truly brilliant. It the few moments it had taken for Rachel to react, she had issued about ten orders and the blank look on the kids faces had transformed to one of semi-brightness. They were all soon in their positions and proceeding with warm ups in about two more minutes.

Rachel looked around and absently noted that Jesse, Andrea and many other faces were absent from this meeting. Would they perhaps spring up from somewhere in a moment, or was Shelby allowing them some time off? The first option seemed far more likely to her.

"They won't be here. This is for the lackeys."

"Huh?"

"Jesse. You were looking for him, right?" said Quinn, knowing that he was indeed the one the girl was searching for. She'd asked Shelby when she kept one of these chorus only rehearsals, citing the excuse that she wasn't comfortable with Jesse recognizing her if she were ever to drop by. Which was why Quinn was pretty sure that Jesse and the rest of the main singers were currently at the gym under Dakota Stanley's watchful eye. She almost pitied them. Almost. But considering Rachel's temper and what she'd do after the truth had sunk in, most of her prayers were reserved for herself.

"Yes, I was. I just didn't want to..."

"I know. Now watch," said Quinn and both of them fell silent. Quinn just hoped that Shelby would sing again, just one line. That's all Rachel needed.

Sitting next to her, Rachel was pretty much hoping for the same thing. Or almost the same anyways. She wasn't quite sure what she'd do once, or rather if, Quinn's theory was confirmed. Was she supposed to start jumping up and down in the hope that Shelby would notice her? Or would she have to go up and introduce herself? What if Shelby didn't recognize her, or worse yet, denied having anything to do with her.

Faint notes of music penetrated her thoughts, and she looked up to see Shelby on stage with two of her students, singing a small piece of music to help them get the note right.

It took a few moments for that voice to wash over her, for her to understand that it was, in fact, the exact same voice that had been on the tape labeled 'from mother to daughter'. It was... She couldn't think properly anymore. All the questions she'd had just a few moments ago had melted away into nothingness, and now her only goal was to get closer. She needed to get closer to her, to stand in front of the woman who had appeared in her dreams for so long, each time with a different face. This was her; this was the person she would think of when she thought of her mother. But who was this person?

Without realizing it, Rachel got up from her seat and, ignoring Quinn's tug on her arm, moved away from the dark. She went forward, down steps that never seemed to end, and watched Shelby, waiting for her to turn. She didn't know what she was hoping for exactly. Had she perhaps thought that her mom would somehow be able to sense her presence, to feel that her daughter was finally so close to her? Maybe she had. But that wasn't a thought; it was an innocent, child-like desire that she was barely aware of. Shelby didn't know her; didn't recognize her footsteps or her presence.

But Shelby did turn. She hadn't seen the girl coming toward her, but the kids had, and she had simply wanted to see what was so interesting that they were ignoring her. But before she could register the fact that she was seeing Rachel again, the girl stepped forward, a strange light in her eyes.

"Ms. Corcoran? My name is Rachel Berry, and I'm your daughter," said Rachel, looking straight at Shelby, not noticing the sudden whispering that began on stage.

Shelby turned sharply, waving them all away with a look. She knew that there would be more than a little curiosity, but she wasn't going to deal with inane questions right now. Not when...

"Ms. Corcoran? I-I know this is unexpected, but I- You left a tape for me, and I found- I-I mean I had it and I've heard it and it's just... Oh God, this is coming out wrong... I didn't mean to just come here like this, but I heard you and... I- Do you know who I am?"

"Yeah, yeah. I... What're you doing here?" she asked, not sure of what to make of the situation. She glanced over Rachel's head, but she couldn't see Quinn anywhere. Was it possible that all of this was just a coincidence?

"I heard the tape and I- The tape, you know? The one that you'd left for me. I heard it and... It's just... And then you..." Rachel trailed off, not sure of what to say. She knew that she wasn't conveying what she wanted to, which was probably why Shelby was looking at her like that.

"I what, Rachel?"

"You were singing right now... It was the same voice,so I just... I probably should have thought about this a little longer. I'm sorry, I'll-"

"Hold on. I-I think we need to talk," said Shelby, climbing down from the stage. She felt more comfortable now that she was on the same level as the girl. "C'mon. We can stay here for some time. They're not going to disturb us." She guided Rachel into one of the chairs, not sitting down herself. After a few moments of deliberation, she went and sat down in one of the chairs a few rows behind Rachel. She didn't know what she was hoping to achieve, but she just didn't want to be facing the girl as she spoke to her.

The tension between them mounted for the next few minutes, with neither of the two getting a word out. They were both too hesitant, to nervous and too burdened by their own expectations. What do you say, after all, when you're faced with a person who you've been thinking about for so long?

They had both imagined this meeting, and various other interactions thousands of times, but neither of them had paid any attention to the details, or to realism, for that matter. It was supposed to be some sort of an instant reunion, as if the years that had passed meant nothing at all. They would know everything about each other from the very beginning, and there would be shopping, and movies and songs... Lots of songs. But as is often the case with imagination, the practicality of the situation escaped both of them, and now that they were actually at this point, they didn't quite know how to move forward.

Or they wouldn't have, anyways, if Quinn hadn't still been sitting in the auditorium. She could see quite clearly that the whole thing was getting nowhere, so she sent a message to Rachel, asking her to open her damn mouth. This was not a time to get a teary, constricted throat. Once she saw that Rachel had finally gotten a word out, she slipped out of there. This wasn't something for an audience, even of one.

* * *

"This must be very unexpected for you," said Rachel. "My arrival here was rather abrupt, and you must be a little shocked, right?"

"Well...," said Shelby, not quite sure how to answer that. Apparently Quinn hadn't told Rachel that this meeting was something she had been anticipating. She hadn't known that today would be the day but she had known that Quinn was trying. She wondered if telling Rachel might be the right thing. It would be better if it came out now, but who knew how Rachel would react.

"It's alright. If you need more time to think about it, I can wait. It's hardly fair that I get weeks and you just get a few minutes to compose yourself."

"No, Rachel, it's not that. I... To tell you the truth, I've almost had as much time to deal with this as you."

"W-What do you mean? I knew... Well, I didn't know that it was you till just yesterday, but I'd heard the song that you'd left for me."

"Rachel, I don't want to start this off with lies, so there are a few things I want to clear up before we talk about anything else. Okay?"

"Are you going to tell me that you're actually not my mother and this was just some devious plot to crush my spirit before Regionals?"

"Rachel! God, you're just as bad as me. No, it's nothing like that. Hear me out before you say anything. When I went to see Quinn at the adoption agency, your fathers were with her, and... Well, let's just say we were equally shocked to see each other. And when I saw Quinn, I wasn't sure what to think. I mean, I couldn't quite understand what they were doing together. I though I might send them a mail or something later, but before I could do that, Quinn came to see me. Sharp girl, that one. She had pretty much everything figured out. Or almost figured out anyways. She was very angry on your behalf, you know? Asking me why I hadn't ever bothered to check up on you."

"Quinn confronted you?" asked Rachel, careful to keep her tone neutral. She didn't want to show Shelby how angry she was at the blonde. Quinn hadn't told her anything about this.

"You could call it that, yes. And that was when I told her that I'd left a message for you, hoping that you might one day get curious enough to find it."

"But why didn't you just come to me?"

"I-I couldn't. Rachel, you don't understand how immensely backward this place was back when you were born. Your fathers needed to protect you from practically everyone, including me. So when I came back here, I respected their wishes and stayed away from you. I thought that if you really wanted to meet me, you'd have the tape to start with."

"How could they just stop you from meeting me? That is absolutely unacceptable!"

"No it's not. Don't blame them, Rachel. They did exactly what they needed to in order to ensure that some bigoted social worked couldn't take you from them. I agreed to it then, and I agree with it now."

"But-"

"No buts. You're not going to be able to understand this one, Rachel. I know that even now, there's plenty of hatred directed toward them, but it's still a huge improvement. If I had wanted, I could have taken you with me when you were born had they not put certain measures into place. But anyways, we're not going to talk about this, because their decisions aren't up for discussion. The point is that Quinn told me about how you were refusing to listen to the tape," said Shelby, not noticing how Rachel's expression tightened.

"She... She sort of agreed to nudge you a little, but made it fairly clear that she wasn't going to force it down your throat if you weren't interested. And... well, you know what happened next," said Shelby, having said all she would say about the tape. She knew that it wasn't fair to tell Rachel about Quinn's involvement while neglecting to mention Jesse, but she couldn't possibly tell Rachel that she'd planted Jesse into the girl's life. Rachel would never trust her if she did that.

"Did you ever regret it?" asked Rachel, tugging at her sleeve nervously. Shelby thought for a moment before answering.

"Yes, then no, then so much," said Shelby, not sure of how to convey her emotions to Rachel. She'd been in the hospital for a few days before she could go home, and that had given her plenty of time to remember Rachel. She had thought of her every minute, wondering if that little baby was missing her presence as well. No matter how much she tried to dismiss those silly thoughts, they kept floating around in her head till the time she got out of the hospital and reached New York City.

That place had consumed every bit of energy she had, not giving her time to think about anything at all but this apartment and that bill and that audition. That part of her life had been a complete whirlwind, and when she thought about it now, there wasn't a single moment she could remember with clarity. Expect in the last few months, when it was becoming apparent that the big break just wasn't going to come. The time when she'd decided to make the move back to Ohio, to a house where she didn't have to pay rent, and to a fairly decent job offer, was still very clear, because that had been one of the few times where she'd had to swallow her pride and admit defeat.

And then a few years later, when she'd found out that she couldn't have children. It was a chance discovery, because in all honesty, she hadn't been planning. But still, that piece of news had sort of served as a wake up call, reminding her that there was yet another thing in her life that wouldn't go according to her wishes. And that was when she'd started thinking of Rachel again. Thinking of her all the damn time.

"When did you realize that it was the right time for me to find you?" said Rachel, not quite sure what to make of Shelby's answer. She had been hoping that Shelby would elaborate a little, but she sensed that her mom was going to have some trouble opening up.

"I saw you sing at sectionals. You were extraordinary... You were me," said Shelby with a slight smile, remembering how astounded she had been at Rachel's performance. The girl was obviously as talented as her, and the Berry's had done a fine job of cultivating that talent.

Rachel didn't know how to respond to that. She felt those little flutters of pride at the praise she received, but there was something a little bothersome about being told that she was Shelby. Not good or bad, just bothersome. She knew that the comparison was inevitable, and that all of her theatrical talents did probably come from her mom, since her fathers just sucked at that sort of stuff. But hearing Shelby actually say it made her feel odd.

"Was it hard for you to not become a star? To not have your dreams come true?" This not only served as a change of topic, but also addressed one of Rachel's greatest fears. She knew that she was far more talented than mere mortals, and that her talent deserved recognition, but she wasn't stupid enough to think that every talented person made it into the spotlight. They languished in the shadows and near back doors of theaters, simply because luck wasn't on their side. She wanted to know how that felt.

"It felt like a broken promise. Like the fisher-king's wound. Never heals." Not only would many people not have understood the reference, but they would also probably have laughed at the absurdity of the answer. But Rachel understood.

"Genetics really are amazing. You see the world with the same fierce theatricality as I do. Even the way we're sitting right now-it's so dramatic and yet we feel so comfortable with it."

"You're right. Genetics are amazing, and I suspect they're the only reason we're not running in the opposite direction. People like us, like me and you, we welcome such situations. But just that one similarity doesn't change the fact that I've missed so much," said Shelby, looking away from the young woman in front of her. Rachel was still a child in so many ways, but she wasn't the child that Shelby had left behind.

Rachel could hear the apprehension in her tone even if she couldn't see it on her face. She realized right then that this woman, wonderful though she may be, wasn't her mother. She wasn't anyone's mother, and this situation was probably more disconcerting for her than it was for Rachel. She understood that this meeting was going far too fast for either of them to begin to digest each other. They needed to slow down.

"So have I... I mean, I don't know you either. It's just been so long, I wouldn't really be expected to, right?"

"Right. Right, you wouldn't. Nor would I, I suppose. So what do you say we start now? I haven't even asked you how you're feeling yet. How're you feeling, sitting here with me?"

"Thirsty," said Rachel, turning back to see the puzzled expression on the other woman's face." W-When I was little and I was feeling sad, my dads would bring me a glass of water... So I couldn't tell if I was sad or just thirsty."

"Honey, are you feeling sad right now?" asked Shelby. Rachel looked up at her again, only just realizing what she'd said. She hadn't meant for it to sound like that.

"I... I don't know. Please don't think that I'm sad because I've met you or something of that sort. It's just..."

"I wasn't what you were expecting?"

"You- No! It's nothing like that... It's just... It's not you, it's us. I mean, we weren't supposed to have this awkward tension hanging over us."

"I know. It wasn't supposed to go like this at all. This was supposed to feel good."

"It does. Mo- Shelby, it really does," said Rachel, seeing Shelby look slightly panicked.

"You know what I mean. We were supposed to have some sort of- run into each others arms or something... I guess I didn't really plan this out properly, did I?" asked Shelby, an almost pleading expression on her face.

"Neither of us did. Although now that you mention it, I don't know how you're supposed to plan this sort of thing. I wish there were a manual," said Rachel, feeling irrationally angry towards her parents and Quinn. If they had just been honest with her, any of them, then she would have been in a better position. It didn't really make much sense, but she wished her father's had told her something about her mom.

"God, yes. But there isn't, so I guess we'll just have to... wing it? That's what you guys are calling it these days, right?"

"Yeah. That seems to be a good idea. So..."

"So still feeling thirsty?"

"No, not so much now. Coul-" Rachel was interrupted by her phone. Cursing herself for not turning it off, she excused herself and looked down, seeing Quinn's name flash across her screen. She thought that perhaps the girl was calling her to give her a convenient excuse to get out in case the conversation wasn't going the way Quinn had planned. Nice of her to be thoughtful; if only she'd done it much earlier.

"Hello? Quinn, although I appreciate your concern, I am han-"

"I think I'm going to have the baby."


	21. Chapter 21

**Title:** My Private Nation

**Pairing:**Quinn/Rachel

**Rating:**R. They're so, so obviously in love. Secretly. And they are so, so obviously both girls. Not so secretly. Femslash, in case you didn't get it.

**Spoilers:**Takes place after EP 13 'Sectionals'.Contains major part of storyline up until EP22.

**Timeline: **Same Day

**Disclaimer:**I don't own Glee, the songs, or even the characters.

**Author's Note:**Un-beta-ed for now so feel free to point out errors. Happy Reading and please R&R. Reviews are my lifeline. They also encourage me to write faster.:)

* * *

_They had both imagined this meeting, and various other interactions thousands of times, but neither of them had paid any attention to the details, or to realism, for that matter. It was supposed to be some sort of an instant reunion, as if the years that had passed meant nothing at all. They would know everything about each other from the very beginning, and there would be shopping, and movies and songs... Lots of songs. But as is often the case with imagination, the practicality of the situation escaped both of them, and now that they were actually at this point, they didn't quite know how to move forward._

* * *

_"Hello? Quinn, although I appreciate your concern, I am han-"_

_"I think I'm going to have the baby."_

* * *

The sight of Russell Fabray entering a tattoo parlor might have been odd for anyone who knew him but in this part of town there was no one that unfortunate, and therefore no one to pay any attention to him. And anyway, he was a regular now, having come to the place every day for about two months.

That was also part of the reason he was so unconcerned. The first time he'd come to this address, he'd taken care to park far away and make himself as unrecognizable as possible. But he'd gotten careless now, and not just about keeping himself hidden. No, he'd gotten careless enough for his normally docile wife to suspect that something was very, very wrong. Careless enough for her to actually inquire about him, to follow him to the place he was in now.

Judy stood on the other side of the road, heaving a sigh of relief. From his recent behavior, she'd been thinking of far worse places to follow him to. If her husband thought that getting tattooed would help him cope with all the stress he'd been taking on, then that was perfectly fine as far as she was concerned. She was relieved that she didn't have to enlist the help of an investigator after all; Russell would have seen the discrepancy in their finances immediately, then there would have been no getting rid of his questions.

But the relief she'd been feeling was short-lived as she saw Russell leaving the shop with a... a something hanging off his arm. Judy wasn't quite sure whether the creature with her husband was a real person or not, but judging by the fact that it- sorry, she was talking, she was a human being. A human being covered from head to toe in ink with her hands all over Russell.

Now, Judy could be very oblivious when she wanted, but even she couldn't ignore the fact that that was her husband shoving his tongue down another woman, or rather girl's, throat in broad daylight. Even then, her impeccable training in social etiquette, or maybe the shock of what she'd seen, prevented her from going after him to beat him with her sandals. She got into the car and drove home without thinking of anything but the road ahead of her and went into their room without taking a single drop of alcohol with her. And then she waited.

* * *

"So they were definitely false contractions?" asked Rachel for what seemed to be the twentieth time.

"Yes, Ms. Berry, they were definitely false contractions."

"So if we do go home, the baby definitely won't pop out while she's sleeping or something?"

"No, that's definitely not going to happen. I can assure you, the baby's not coming yet. And when she does, she won't just slide out silently. I do think that Quinn here will get some advance warning," said the doctor in a remarkably patient voice for a man who had been badgered for the better part of an hour by the Berry's. "False contractions are normal. In fact, I'm fairly sure Quinn has experienced them before, but they were too faint for her to pay much attention to."

"But w-"

"Rach, it's okay. I'm fine," said Quinn, taking pity on the man. She knew that Rachel could go on for hours if she didn't intervene.

"You thought you were having a baby an hour ago. Your assessment doesn't count," said Rachel, effectively shutting Quinn up before turning back to the gynac. "Now doctor, what I'm trying to say is that what if she can't differentiate the false contractions from the real ones? It's not as if the due date is that far away."

"Well, the main thing is that these contractions are always fairly mild, and generally breathing rhythmically for a few minutes makes them stop. The real ones won't work that way. They'll start off faint, but the strength will gradually increase, as opposed to dying down. So she'll figure out the difference easily."

"Oh, okay. Good. But don't you think, just for safety, that she should be admitted to the hospital till the due date?"

"Yes, that does seem to be a pretty good idea," said Joseph, rejoining the conversation."It would certainly be much safer."

"Joseph! My due date's two weeks away. Two whole weeks!" said Quinn, panicking at the thought of having to stay in this place for that long. She really hoped that the doctor agreed with her thoughts on the Berry's over-enthusiasm. She wondered if they'd been this careful when Rachel was born as well.

"I know, honey, and that's not really a very long time, if you think about it. The last months seem to have passed in the blink of an eye. What's two weeks?" said Joseph, trying to make her see sense. Even after having successfully raised a child without her turning out odd, or not too odd, he still got as panicky right now as he did when Shelby was nearing her due date. He had, along with Sam, scoured every book they could find on pregnancy and had tried their level best to keep Shelby chained in one position for nine months. Didn't work, because she though that they were nuts, but still.

"No way. I am not staying here for that long."

"But Quinn-"

"Rachel, in case you've forgotten, we've got this little thing called the Regionals coming up. And last I checked, we need ALL of our members in order to be able to qualify, right?"

"Right," conceded Rachel reluctantly."We do need you for that. You know, I should have thought of that before! What if you have the baby before that? We'll be short a member,"said Rachel, looking horrified at her lack of foresight. She couldn't believe that she'd overlooked this. Even with all her countless hours of preparation, of trying to rule out any obstacle, she'd virtually forgotten that Quinn might not be there at all.

"Rachel, relax. There's no way I'm missing Regionals."

"I don't actually think you'll have much say in that. I need to find an understudy for you."

"Understudy Rachel? Find one if you want, but if I'm okay on the big day, I perform. Clear?" said Quinn, fairly sure of the fact that finding an understudy for her, someone who was willing to join Glee Club, would be close to impossible.

"Of course you will. But Quinn, if you go into labor in the middle of our performance, I'll kill you."

* * *

Rachel looked up from her textbook as her phone vibrated - one new message. Even though Sam had told her numerous times to switch off her phone while studying, she never listened because who knew which Broadway producer's call she might miss. In her line of work, it was imperative to remain connected.

**Quinn Fabray****:** Ttly 4gt 2 ask. Hw ws it wid Shel?

**Rachel Berry****:** You're in the next room. And why can't you type properly?

**Quinn Fabray****:** 2 mch efrt + u tld me nt 2 move or speak. so typin instead. u no puck sends creepy msgs? thnk he was sextin san, gt me instead.

**Rachel Berry****:** Firstly, I told you to rest. Secondly, I don't understand why I'm doing this. I'm coming to your room, and you're allowed to speak now. PS: Noah sends those msgs to every girl in school. He's stopped with me because I complained to his mother.

Two minutes later, Rachel knocked lightly on Quinn's door and went in to see the other girl perched on her back, squinting at her phone.

"I told you, just ignore these messages. He's been sending them to every girl in his address book for years."

"Then how come I'm just getting them now?"

"Perhaps he thought you wouldn't appreciate them."

"Yeah right. Like that's ever stopped him," said Quinn, throwing her phone to the side and hauling herself up into a sitting position. "So anyway, back to Shelby. What the hell happened? Did I interrupt you guys?" She would have dearly loved to stick around when Rachel and Shelby finally started talking, but her sense of courtesy got the better of her curiosity. That was their conversation, and Rachel would tell her anything important anyway.

"You didn't interrupt exactly, no. I mean, we were hardly having what you would call a smooth conversation, so I suppose it wasn't an interruption in the true sense of the word."

"If you weren't having a conversation, then what exactly were you doing? Sleeping on the soft seats?"

"Not funny, Quinn. Not at all funny. Especially since I'm very angry with you."

"Me? What the hell for? I thought you said that I hadn't interrupted you," said Quinn, feeling a little apprehensive. She wondered if Shelby had come clean to Rachel about Quinn's part in their meeting.

"No, you didn't. But you did set me up," said Rachel, not able to keep some hint of accusation from creeping into her voice. She knew that Quinn had genuinely come to like her in the past few months, but even then her defenses went up when it came to Quinn hiding things from her.

"Set you - oh. Oh... Okay. So Shelby told you, then?" asked Quinn, feeling a surge of irritation. She had specifically asked Shelby to not say anything to Rachel without at least informing her first, but the older woman had obviously not respected her wishes. It wouldn't have been such an issue if the person was anyone other than Rachel Berry, because there wasn't anyone else whom Quinn had plotted against that much... Well, maybe Jewfro, but then that was different.

"Yes, she did. And I almost refused to believe her. Because to me, it didn't seem to be making a lot of sense. I mean, why would you do that to me, right?" said Rachel as she got up and started pacing around the room."Why would my best friend go behind my back and contact my mother? I couldn't think of an answer to that question, but apparently you could, or you wouldn't have done it. So I'd really like an expla- Quinn, why are you looking at me like that?... Quinn?"

"Yo- Your what?"

"Huh?"

"I'm your best friend?"

"Wh- Oh my God! I'm trying to ask you why you were conspiring against me, and that was the only part of the sentence that you heard? Really, Quinn?"

"Um.. yeah?" said Quinn weakly, before the look on Rachel's face made it very clear that it wasn't the time for bad jokes. "Okay, sorry. Just sit down for a moment and let me explain. I know you think that all of this is some big plan of mine to mess with you or something else along those lines, but it's not. It's more like the Universe's plan to mess with us. I swear I didn't intentionally do any of this."

"Any of what, exactly?"

"Any of whatever you're accusing me of doing. I didn't go and hunt for Shelby, and I didn't know who she was when I met her. When she came in for the adoption, there was just something happening between her and your dads. From the moment they said her name, I knew that there was more to it than they were letting on. And that was the time when you were thinking about your biological mother, so it was at the forefront of my brain. I don't think things would have clicked so fast otherwise."

"You don't understand, do you? It's not about the fact that you didn't know who she was when she first walked into that room, it's about the fact that you found out and chose to keep me in the dark," said Rachel in a tone which indicated that she was trying to explain a simple situation to a stupid kid.

"What was I supposed to do?" asked Quinn, getting more than a little worked up herself. She had known from the start that Rachel probably wouldn't react well, but she'd expected a tiny little bit more trust. Quinn understood that hiding Shelby from Rachel and then just bashing them together like that wasn't something that should have been done in an ideal universe, but this wasn't exactly an ideal universe, and she really did have Rachel's best interests in mind.

"Tell me. You were supposed to just come up to me the minute you found out and tell me."

"And then what? What would you have done if I'd come and told you that the woman who might be adopting my baby was your mother?"

"I- That's not relevant."

"Of course it is. This wasn't some great joyride for me. I did whatever I did because believe it or not, I have your best interests in mind. You would have freaked out if you'd actually had time to dwell over who Shelby was, and that's why I didn't tell you. Like I said, I've spoken to her, and she's not a bad person as far as I can tell. You were so eager to meet your mom that I wanted to give you guys a chance, that's all. What happened after the two of you met, how you're reacting to each other hasn't changed."

"Quinn, I do know that you were looking out for me, and I appreciate it. I really do. But I would have preferred to 'freak out' as you put it, rather than to just be thrust into such a situation without the slightest warning. And before you even go there, that speech you gave me at Carmel was not a warning."

"Yes it was! I mean, both of you still looked like bumbling idiots before I came to the rescue, but it was a warning."

"I did not look like a bumbling idiot. I admit to have lost my bearings for a moment, but I managed a gracious recovery, as any great performer would."

"Oh please," said Quinn, with a slight smile that she didn't bother to hide,"you need to revise your definition of gracious."

"Quinn Fabray, if you weren't-" Rachel stopped mid rant when she saw the teasing expression on Quinn's face."Oh ha ha. Just because I'm being careful around you doesn't mean you can get me riled up for your entertainment."

"It's my God-given right, Berry. We're okay, right?"

"The baby rescued you... Of course we're okay, Quinn. But I would appreciate it if you didn't do something like this again."

"I don't think we'll ever be in such a situation again, so that's okay. But," she continued quickly seeing the annoyed look on Rachel's face, "I'll also try not to keep anything from you that actually concerns you."

"Thank you. But what about things that don't concern me?"

"You're the psychic, you figure it out. But anyway, now that the pregnant whale has groveled, can we move on please?... Or rather, get back to the original point. You met your mom!... And you haven't said anything about it. Except tell me how I'm an ass. Tell me the good stuff. What did you guys talk about? Any earth-shattering revelations?"

"It was a conversation, Quinn, not an orgasm."

"Wha - I - God! Berry, you have such a filthy mind!"

"I like to call it creative, actually."

"You would. No wonder you get along so well with Puck."

"Uh huh. But to answer your question, our meeting was what could be best described as awkward."

"Really?"

"Well, what would you have expected?"

"I dunno. But probably lots of waterworks and gushing and a song thrown in for good measure. Something along those lines," said Quinn. She knew that it sounded funny but then they were talking about Rachel and her equally dramatic mother, so Quinn knew that what she was saying was an understatement of what Rachel and Shelby had thought would happen when they met.

"Funny thing, I thought so too. I even had a few songs picked out. But I suppose I never really thought about it properly. I didn't ever think of the fact that we'd never met, and that we might feel uncomfortable around each other at first, or that we not even like each other. "

"Who thinks about stuff like that? It's not like you thought you might meet her in real life one day, so you didn't think up fifty contingency plans like you do for every other thing. It was a dream, so you didn't think about the shitty complication."

"Like the fact that she's probably your baby's new mommy?" asked Rachel before her brain had time to catch up with her mouth.

"Um.."

"No, don't. I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to sound like that."

"But it's still true. Probably. Maybe."

"So you've decided then?" asked Rachel, realizing then that she hadn't been paying much attention to anything except Glee and her mom lately.

"Not yet, no. We've met a lot of different people after Shelby, but she's..."

"Different?"

"I was going to say better but yeah, she is different. It's not really something I can put my finger on, like she looks better or has a bigger bank balance or something. It's just that when I picture her with a baby, it feels more... right, than it does with any other person. Like it's supposed to be like that."

"Then why haven't you completed the paper-work yet? I heard Daddy saying that it needed to be finished as fast as possible."

"Honestly?... Because of you," said Quinn, looking straight at Rachel. They needed to talk about this right now because Rachel was right about time running out on the adoption. She could obviously wait for as long as she needed, but Quinn knew that her mind was pretty much made up about who this baby's mom was going to be. But she needed to at least speak to Rachel about it first.

"Quinn..."

"Not like you're stopping me or something of that sort. But I know how potentially weird this situation can get. Fact is, she's your mom so if she adopts the baby, we get some out-of-the-way biological-biological-mother relation or something. You'll be my one-fiftieth daughter... Sort of. I think."

"Um, Quinn?... Eww. Let's please not think along those lines."

"Fine. I was just saying... Well, no. I was trying to freak you out. Still what I said about awkwardness is true. The two of you are just getting to know each other and then if there's all this stuff in the middle..."

"That's our problem. I don't get what Shelby was thinking trying to contact me and adopt a baby at the exact same time, but that's something that the two of us can straighten out. You need to put this baby in the best possible home you can find for her, Quinn. She's just so... precious, and she deserves the absolute best. If Shelby can give that to her, then that's all there is to it."

"You're not just saying this to be nice, right? Because I want to know what you really think about this before going ahead with anything."

"I don't know how I feel about it. I mean, if she wanted to get to know me then why did she choose to adopt a child at the same time? I don't know her, and I can't even begin to guess what she's thinking, especially after today. And I know it's selfish, but I would have obviously preferred it if there was nothing more important in her life right now. But she's got her name on an adoption list because she clearly wants a baby. If it's not yours, it'll be someone else's. But for you and the baby, she's the only choice."

"Will you stop thinking about me and the baby for a minute? I don't want our friendship to become awkward and tense because of this situation. So if you're not liking it now, and you don't like it later, then where does that leave us?"

"It doesn't have anything to do with us at all. Shelby adopting the baby is just a coincidence, and it's not as if you actually went and pestered her into adopting your baby because she's my mom, right? So after she adopts, the baby will be hers and whatever problems may arise, I swear I won't let it get between us. I told you before, Quinn, you're one of the only people who tolerates me for me. I'd rather not push you away just because you're trying to give your daughter a good life."

Outside the door, Joseph stood listening to the conversation, the glass of milk his hand forgotten. He'd been meaning to get Quinn to drink it, but the moment he'd heard Shelby's name in the conversation, he froze, not even daring to think of what it might mean. But some of his deeply buried fears had been confirmed in the last few minutes. Rachel knew. She knew about her mother. Hell, she'd been trying to find her mother without ever saying a word to him or Sam.


	22. Chapter 22

**Title:** My Private Nation

**Pairing:**Quinn/Rachel

**Rating:**R. They're so, so obviously in love. Secretly. And they are so, so obviously both girls. Not so secretly. Femslash, in case you didn't get it.

**Spoilers:**Takes place after EP 13 'Sectionals'.Contains major part of storyline up until EP22.

**Timeline: **Same Day

**Disclaimer:**I don't own Glee, the songs, or even the characters.

**Author's Note:**Un-beta-ed for now so feel free to point out errors. Happy Reading and please R&R. Reviews are my lifeline. They also encourage me to write faster.:) Read the AN at the end. A shout-out to **Cissy Black Malfoy, Maipigen, **and** Passionatelysimple. **Chatting and PMing with you guys gave me a lot of ideas and reasons for taking the story forward, and got rid of a nasty case of writers block, so thank you:)

* * *

_Now, Judy could be very oblivious when she wanted, but even she couldn't ignore the fact that that was her husband shoving his tongue down another woman, or rather girl's, throat in broad daylight. Even then, her impeccable training in social etiquette, or maybe the shock of what she'd seen, prevented her from going after him to beat him with her sandals._

* * *

_"Yes, she did. And I almost refused to believe her. Because to me, it didn't seem to be making a lot of sense. I mean, why would you do that to me, right?" said Rachel as she got up and started pacing around the room."Why would my best friend go behind my back and contact my mother? I couldn't think of an answer to that question, but apparently you could, or you wouldn't have done it. So I'd really like an expla- Quinn, why are you looking at me like that?... Quinn?"_

* * *

_"Honestly?... Because of you," said Quinn, looking straight at Rachel. They needed to talk about this right now because Rachel was right about time running out on the adoption. She could obviously wait for as long as she needed, but Quinn knew that her mind was pretty much made up about who this baby's mom was going to be. But she needed to at least speak to Rachel about it first._

_"Quinn..."_

_"Not like you're stopping me or something of that sort. But I know how potentially weird this situation can get. Fact is, she's your mom so if she adopts the baby, we get some out-of-the-way biological-biological-mother relation or something. You'll be my one-fiftieth daughter... Sort of. I think."_

_"Um, Quinn?... Eww. Let's please not think along those lines."_

_"Fine. I was just saying... Well, no. I was trying to freak you out. Still what I said about awkwardness is true. The two of you are just getting to know each other and then if there's all this stuff in the middle..."_

* * *

"But we need to talk to her," said Sam, trying to get his husband to stop sulking.

"What for? She doesn't seem to be all that interested in talking to us about it."

"Jo, don't be like that," said Sam, coming up behind Joseph, who was refusing to even look at him. They'd been arguing about what Joseph had overheard for about half an hour, and Joseph wasn't thrilled about the fact that Sam wasn't as furious as he was.

"Don't be like what? In case you've not understood, Rachel is the one who went all teenage ninja on us. Why should we bring up a subject that she clearly does not wish to share with us?"

"Um... Maybe because we're the parents in the situation? Babe, I know you're not liking this and believe me, I'm not either, but now that Rachel knows about Shelby, she needs our side of the story as well. She needs to know why we did what we did."

"We did it to protect her! Isn't that obvious?"

"Jo, I'm not the one you need to tell this to. She's a really intelligent child, always has been. You think she wouldn't have figured out by now that there had to be a mom out there somewhere? And that she wouldn't have been the least bit curious?"

"If... If she was curious, she should have asked us. We've always been open with Rachel about everything, and she should have had enough confidence in us to just talk about it."

"I'm not saying that I wouldn't have preferred that, but... I think we're being a little unfair to her Jo. Think about it. We've always talked to her about every issue we can think of before she gets it from anywhere else so that she never feels that there's something we don't want to talk to her about . But even after the time that we knew she had the biology of having a baby figured out, we didn't tell her anything about Shelby. Can you blame her for being hesitant?"

"Why d'you have to be so damn logical about everything? I don't want to think about it! She's my daughter, and that's that. We never spoke to her about Shelby because Shelby's not _important_. She has two parents, and she doesn't need a mother to complete her life in some way. That's why we never spoke to her about it. And now..."

"And now what? Just because she's met Shelby once she's not our kid anymore? The last sixteen years just vanish into thin air?... Nothing has changed babe, and you need to get that through your head. Our relationship with her is only affected by us, and our decisions, not by the other people in her life. What's happening right now isn't all that different from adopted kids wanting to know more about their biological parents. It doesn't mean that they're not satisfied with the life that they're living."

"But if she was happy and content with us, then why would the question of finding her surrogate mother even enter her head?"

"Because, in case you haven't noticed, she looks nothing like either of us. And no offense, but your singing is worse than a cat scratching a blackboard."

"And you're better at it, are you? The last time you tried to karaoke, people threw food at you."

"I think _that_ was because I was dedicating a love song to another man."

"And because your voice sucked."

"That also," Sam conceded. "My voice does suck, and so does yours. But Rachel... I don't think I need to elaborate there."

"Uh huh," said Joseph, wondering how Sam could be so calm about this. His husband's easy-going, level-headed nature was one of the many things that he absolutely adored about him, but right at this moment, it made him want to throw something just to wipe that calm look off Sam's face.

Sam and Rachel were both pretty much the same in that respect - optimistic to the point of foolishness, and almost unable to see other people's faults and flaws. He was stumped sometimes at how willing both of them were to forgive just about anything, and at their ability to genuinely let it go. Rachel was quite obviously more dramatic than Sam, and she could kick up a royal fuss when angry, but when it came to holding a long-term grudge, she was pretty hopeless.

The perfect example of that was probably the fact that Quinn Fabray was living at his house. He couldn't understand, even now, how Rachel had been so willing to help the girl even though the help was clearly not wanted. Granted, Quinn had turned out to be a very nice, if somewhat uptight, person who didn't have the five hundred tonnes of prejudice that he was expecting. She'd managed to make a place for herself in their crazy family, and he'd gotten very comfortable having her around.

But Rachel couldn't possibly have known all that would happen, that Quinn would not turn out to be a vicious bitch. She couldn't have known that about the cheerleader who taunted her and abused her every day, who never let her feel safe till she was outside the school gates and who even admitted that she would have thrown Rachel to the dogs if their role's had been reversed. And yet, she'd brought her home, something which Joseph knew he would never have been able to do, and which Sam probably could.

Maybe it was because it was far harder for him to trust people after the slightest sign of danger. He'd faced more rejection than the two of them, at least on a personal level. Both he and his husband had come out long after college, and although Sam got some crap at work, he hadn't had to deal with that since he worked with gay people. But although he missed the cruelty that teenagers and colleagues could dole out on a daily basis with great ease, there was still the matter of his family.

While Sam's mom couldn't get his attraction to men, like he couldn't get people's attraction to women, she still accepted it. It was uphill work, with a lot of explaining and justifying and fighting, but at the end of the day, his family was always there for him. And they had, in time, come to accept Joseph's place in Sam's life and subsequently see Rachel as their 'real' granddaughter and dote on her accordingly. They were good people, who knew that you didn't have to understand everything in life in order to accept it.

His family, on the other hand, could never come to terms with who he was. His elder brother had tried to talk to him about it once, but he knew that it was more about trying to 'cure' him than anything else. His parents, as far as he knew, had never even tried to reach out to him. He hadn't spoken to any of them in years, even though Sam always insisted on sending them all cards on every damn holiday imaginable. All six of his siblings probably made a bonfire of those cards every year, that is if they didn't chuck them in the bin immediately, because they didn't want to keep anything from their twisted, sinful brother now, did they?

That loss of security, of not knowing that there would always be someone to catch him no matter how hard he fell, was in some part responsible for the fear and anger he was feeling right now. Rachel and Sam meant everything, absolutely everything, to him. After meeting Sam, he'd worked so hard to regain that security, to keep him family together despite all the bullshit coming their way.

They'd tried to be perfect for Rachel, consulting every book, meeting the best therapists if they felt that there was something beyond their capability and giving her more resources than their income at that time could take. He wanted his daughter to never have a door shut in her face because of her parents, and so both of them had given every bit of themselves to counteract the damage that ignorant bigots would inevitably do. Their daughter wouldn't ever have to hear that she didn't have the skill or qualification for whatever it was that she chose to do.

And now Shelby had walked into their lives... He didn't know what she wanted or why she was here, and that scared him. Rachel had two parents, and it needed to stay that way. That woman didn't have any right going behind their backs trying to befriend their daughter for some unknown reasons, and he was going to make sure she didn't do it again.

But what if... What if Rachel was the one who wanted to befriend Shelby? Was it possible that she was the one who'd tracked her mother down, that she saw something in Shelby that she hadn't found in them? Did she really need a mother? If so, there was nothing that he or Sam could do to stop her. They wouldn't go against her wishes, and Shelby might be able to give her a better, more 'normal' life, the chance to not be teased everyday for things she couldn't control. How the hell was he supposed to compete with that?

"Babe?"

"Huh?"

"You spaced out for a minute there," said Sam, a worried frown crossing his face."What were you thinking about?"

"Just," said Joseph, realizing that he was thinking way too far into the future. He knew that without speaking to Rachel first, anything else was pretty pointless."About us. About my family."

"Jo... You _know _it's not the same thing. Neither of us intends to cut ties with you, I promise... Look, I get you're worried about Rachel finding her mom and running off with her, but I'm telling you that's not happening. They don't have a clue about each other, so when they met, it was probably just saying hello for the first time. Rachel's definitely not packing her bags anytime soon."

"But-"

"No. Listen, Shelby may be where she gets her voice from, but that passion she has, that crazy desire, is all us. We're the ones who made her listen to music before she was even born. You were the one who was obsessed with making her watch every musical that came on TV, no matter how ridiculous. You took her to all those classes, and you gave her the confidence to always outshine everyone else even if they looked at her funny. You think that she'd be the person that she is today if we weren't the ones that raised her?"

"Yeah, but-"

"No, she wouldn't," said Sam, cutting off Joseph again. He knew that the only way they'd get anywhere was if he forced his partner to shut his brain off for a moment."She's still have all the talent, but who knows what she'd be doing with it? Rachel's not inclined towards Broadway because Shelby is too, Rachel's inclined towards Broadway because we are. She gives herself pep talks in the mirror every morning, just like you do. She-"

"Okay, okay. You're right. Let's go and talk to her," said Joseph, getting up from the window sill and grudgingly accepting the kiss Sam planted on his forehead before heading towards Rachel's room, his nervousness increasing with every step.

* * *

"Judy?" said Russell, shutting the door to his house behind him. Her car was in the garage, so why hadn't she answered the door? He put his laptop in it's place and hung his jacket, stopping for a moment at the mirror in the hall to check yet again that there was nothing out of the ordinary before taking the stairs up to him bedroom.

"Judy?" he called out again a little louder, still not getting a response. The house was unusually still today, and the silence made him uncomfortable. Not that there had been much life in here after he'd sent Quinn away, but still, this seemed different somehow. Maybe it was just his conscience making him paranoid, but Russell almost felt afraid of walking into his own room. He shrugged off the stupid feeling and pushed the door open, walking in to find Judy sitting on his chair, staring out of the window.

"What the hell are you doing just sitting here? I've be..." his words died in his mouth as she turned and he got to see the expression on her face. It wasn't a threatening face by any means, nor, for that matter, did she look angry. No, what he was seeing on her face stopped him because it was just so... cold, so detached. He'd never, ever seen his wife look like that at him, and he didn't quite know how to react to it.

"You've been what, Russell?" Again, Judy's tone threw him off his game. They'd been together for over twenty-three years, and he'd perfected the art of having his wife flinch every time he spoke in a remotely irritated voice. So the way she had come to stand in front of him right now, looking for all the world as if he were nothing more than a piece of furniture, made him feel very, very unsure of himself.

"I-I came home... I mean, I rang the bell and you didn't answer, and I've been shouting your name at the top of my voice. Why didn't you respond?"

"I was busy," she said, taking another step towards him. Again, there was nothing menacing about the way that she was slowly but surely invading into his space. It was just a very subtle way of indicating that the balance of power had shifted. She just didn't have it in her to look at this man and be afraid anymore. Her fear, anger, resentment, and sadness were things she hadn't come to terms with yet, and so when she looked at Russell, she felt nothing at all.

"Busy?" he said, his irritation overriding his bewilderment. "You were just sitting there, staring at the street. D'you think I' m stupid?"

"Stupid? No, I don't think you are. I think that out of the two of us, I'm the bigger fool by a long shot. Right, Russell? Isn't that why I've spent over half my life conforming to your wishes, doing every damn thing you ever asked of me."

"Don't use that word!" he spat, a tendril of fear wrapping itself around his chest as his heartbeat started to accelerate.

"DON'T! Don't you _dare_ try to tell me to mind my manners and teach my how to behave, you dirty, perverted bastard," said Judy, her voice rising with every word. She could feel her anger seeping out, triggered by his words."How dare you come into our house and try to shame me into submitting to whatever bullshit comes out of your mouth after you spent the entire day fucking some filthy, dirty whore? What gives you the guts to do that?"

"Jud-"

"I'm not finished! I am_ not_ finished, and you are to shut up and listen to me... You've _talked_, Russell. You're the only one in this house who's been talking for as far as I could remember. Going on and on about your precious morals and reputation and your fucking name in the society. And I did everything, every damn thing I possibly could so that you could still hold your head up high and walk down the road every day. You bullied me, you bullied our children and I let you. God, I let you, I was _that _dumb. I let you punish our children, make them think badly of themselves and of me just so you could boast about them to the world. And every fucking thing that went wrong with them was always my fault, wasn't it? Wasn't it?" she said, screaming the last question at his face.

"No, honey-"

"Because you were to bloody perfect to ever mess up. You were a Fabray. So you never made a mistake, and you never tolerated people who did either... Our daughter, Russell. She's sixteen years old and you threw her out of our house when she was pregnant. You threw her out when you knew she had nowhere to go. And I watched you do it. But now what, Russell? If she got that for making one mistake, the only one she ever made, what do you get for being a tyrant, for destroying your family? For cheating on your wife for months. What you you get, Russell? Tell me."

"Judy, we can talk abo-"

"No, we can not fucking _talk _about anything!," she shouted, before taking a deep breath and continuing in a far calmer tone. "There's never been talking in this house, Russell, don't you know that? One person makes the rules and every one else listens. That's how it works. My rules now, Russell. I will be bringing both of our children back into this house, making sure that they know they're welcome here no matter what happens. And before that happens, you will get the hell out of here so that they actually believe what I say. I don't want to see your face again till I call you. You have half an hour to pack, Russell. I'll keep the timer on the table."

"You can't do that! This is my house. I'm not the one who'll be leaving," he said, the shock of her words breaking his silence. He'd thought about what might have happened had Judy found out about what he was doing, but this conversation wasn't something he'd thought of even in his worst-case scenarios. For him, even contemplating the fact that his wife, the woman who'd listened to everything he'd ever said, no matter how illogical, would try to get him to leave his house was impossible.

"Oh really? The thing is, Russell, once Quinnie moves back with me, she'll need her space. So will Grace, if she decides to visit. And if I'm the one who has to leave this house then mark my words, I will _destroy _your reputation. I will personally walk down to every house in our neighborhood to inform them of how you couldn't keep it in your pants for a girl your daughter's age, and how you then kicked your poor, devastated wife out of the house after she found out. And I'll make sure I call your board of directors as well. Such a well reputed company, they really can't have a nympho like you at the head, can they?" she said, looking him straight in the eye and making sure he understood that she meant every word that she said.

"B-but I ju-just-" he stuttered, not being able to form any words. He wouldn't have taken anything she said seriously, because Judy threatening him was laughable. But the woman standing in front of him, verbally ripping him apart, wasn't the woman he thought he'd come to know. He just knew by the way she said it that she would in fact do everything she'd threatened to if he didn't listen to her.

"Half an hour, Russell. I'll be waiting for your keys in the study," said Judy, walking out of the room leaving her gaping husband behind her. He understood that he really had pushed her too far this time. There was no point talking, not right now. Maybe later, when she had calmed down some. For now, he moved toward his wardrobe, slowly gathering whatever he would require for the next few days.

Twenty three minutes later, he handed his bag to the cab-driver he'd called and went into the study with his keys where Judy was indeed waiting. He looked at her one last time as he gently dropped his keys down onto the table, but as she refused to acknowledge his presence, he turned around and walked out, shutting the door behind him.

Only when she heard the click of the front door of the house did Judy finally allow herself to turn and take a look at the keys he'd left before the realization of what had just happened to her life, of what she's said to her husband really caught up with her as she collapsed back into the chair, silent tears making their way down her face. She covered her mouth with her hand in an attempt to halt the sobs that were slowly starting to wrack her body, feeling more alone that she had in the longest time.

* * *

Sam rapped lightly on Rachel's door with his knuckles, waiting patiently till he heard a muffled "Come in," issue through the door. Stepping inside, after having to push Joseph through, he found Rachel buried under a heap of blankets, peering out at him from under it.

"You okay, Rae rae?" he asked, sitting down near her. He waiting patiently for her to say something, not breaking the silence when she took his hand and held on to it so hard that he was afraid she'd break something. He knew that no matter how much time she'd had to brace herself, meeting Shelby would have had to have been difficult for her. Not bad, necessarily, but just difficult.

"There's something I wished to discuss with you," she said finally, still keeping her head hidden under the blanket. Sam almost smiled at the behavior, knowing that she generally behaved like this was when she was feeling guilty about something; specifically, something she thought they might disapprove of. Like when she'd gotten a gold star tattooed on her shoulder, or when she'd sneaked out in the middle of the night to try to run away to New York, with luggage and everything, before sneaking back in after getting to the station. She always told them in the end, and the confession always began like this. But since he knew what this was about, Sam decided to not make her suffer.

"We know."

"You do?" she said, kicking the blankets off just enough for her head to peak out.

"I think so, yeah. That's sort of why we're here as well. We wanted to talk to you about it... About Shelby."

"Oh, so you really do know..."

"Pretty much everything, yeah. Your Daddy overheard you talking about her, and I thought that maybe it was time for a very, very over-due talk, right Jo?"

"Right," said Joseph, not making a move to approach Rachel. He stood behind Sam, waiting to see how this would play out.

"So you want to go first, or should we?"

"I'd rather you do, please." Sam nodded at her request, ignoring the rather hard pinch Joseph gave him.

"I know that you already know quite a lot about Shelby, but I'll go right from the start anyway. We've told you all about why we wanted to have a baby, and you know how difficult it was back then. We put ads put everywhere and most of the replies we got were from people telling us to go rot in hell. But there were a few women who were interested, and we spent a lot of time travelling all over the place meeting them."

"Like a second honeymoon," supplied Joseph.

"Uh huh. Only more tiring and less fun. There were only two women from Ohio who contacted us, Shelby and another one who never even got through our initial screening."

"She did drugs!"

"Big time. We actually thought that she was agreeing to be a surrogate just to get money to buy drugs. Not the ideal choice. But anyway, you know how we told you we screened women on the basis of beauty and IQ?"

"Yeah."

"Well, we had three woman left at the end of it, and although Shelby was one of them, we had a real tough time deciding between the three."

"What made you choose Shelby?"

"There was one thing that tipped it in her favor," said Sam, not sure of how Rachel would react to this next piece of information."She was the youngest, the most eager to kick-start her career, and the absolute least interested in kids. In any way."

"Excuse me!"

"Uh... Yeah. She was just the one out of the three of them that we knew would want to get the hell away from us after she delivered the baby."

"Wait, so you're trying to tell me that you wanted my mother to not be interested in-"

"She is NOT your mother!" said Joseph, clenching his jaw at Rachel's words. "She's not."

"I- Daddy I didn't... That's not what I meant. I'm sorry. That wasn-"

"We know, baby. It's okay," said Sam, giving Rachel's hand a squeeze, and Joseph a quick look. He hadn't liked it either, but for him Rachel was more important right now. "And you're sort of correct. We wanted the surrogate to not be interested in you. Not in you you, but rather in the concept of having a baby of her own... because I'd done a lot of research, and there were so many instances in which the surrogate mother got so attached to the baby that she decided to keep it, or just disappeared before the baby was even born."

"And we couldn't take that risk," said Joseph."Especially since most people back then would have supported her. I know that you might not understand it, but we did what was best for all four of us. We weren't a 'normal' couple, you know? So there wasn't even a possibility of a second chance for us."

"Which is why we tried our level best to make our first one work. Like our absolute level best. And that included taking care of Shelby after she got pregnant. We didn't know much about her family, just that there was no criminal record or medical problems, and when we asked her to stay with us, she agreed."

"Wait, she was with you the entire time?"

"Of course. How d'you think you got all that musical education in her stomach?"

"I- I thought that maybe you visited her, or perhaps given her cassettes."

"Oh no. We went the whole hog. You remember our old apartment?"

"Somewhat, yes."

"The guest-room was her room for nine months. Used to look like a nuclear war zone on her bad days," said Sam, smirking at the memory." Nine months she had us waiting on her hand and foot. There were times when Joseph had to literally stop me from strangling her."

"Dad! Why would you want to strangle her?"

"Baby, if someone were to wake you ten times in the middle of the night for water, or toast or whatever new notion got into her head, you'd feel like killing them too. Of course, as the pregnancy progressed, I could understand her reluctance to do anything that required even the teeniest amount of energy, but before that..."

"Did she really do that? And you listened?" said Rachel, highly amused despite the situation. She couldn't ever imagine anyone but her other father bullying Sam into doing things.

"She really did that. And I listened, even if that look on your face says you don't believe me... When I look back at it now, I see that she was just a kid herself at that time, barely twenty years old."

"She was that young?"

"Uh huh."

"But how could you- I mean... Well, wasn't she too young?"

"She was legal adult, Ray. And plus, she wanted to be on Broadway. She'd been saving up for it for quite some time. Who were we to say she was too young?"

"But Dad-"

"Rachel, I get it. Even I had thought that she was far too young to know what exactly she was getting into and your Daddy and I spoke to her about it. We didn't exactly try to persuade her to run away, as you can imagine, but we did sit her down and make sure that she was at least informed of the fact that pregnancy wasn't the most fun thing on earth. And there was no responsibility involved beyond that, so her age wasn't really that much of a problem. Especially when you consider the fact that she wanted to go out and act."

"True. Not that age is the only factor on stage, but it does play a significant part."

"Yeah, it does. And according to her, she was already late. She'd been wanting to escape from here since she was two or something. So you see, the whole thing was ideal for all of us. Except for the fact that she loved bossing us around. Just loved it. Do you remember?" he asked, looking up at Joseph.

"Remember? How could I possibly forget. Her evil cackle still rings in my ears. I can't ever forget the way she used to grin after asking us to do something for her," said Joseph, gazing off into the distance as he thought of those months again.

"Was she really that mean?" asked Rachel.

"Mean?" asked Joseph, startled. "Oh no, Rae, that's not what we were trying to say at all. No, don't you see? She was just having fun, like a kid in a candy store... I don't claim to know too much about her background, but it seemed to me as if she was just this kid who'd never really had a lot of attention. She was reveling in it, but she wasn't being cruel to us. I think she was just enjoying the fact that she had these two guys at her beck and call, who were going to do pretty much everything she wanted."

Sam listened quietly as Joseph went on to describe Shelby's numerous crazy antics to Rachel, well aware of the fact that his husband had all but forgotten his anger in the past few minutes. Sam knew Joseph, and he'd been expecting him to calm down once eventually, but he hadn't anticipated on it being so soon. Still, it wasn't as if he was going to interrupt.

"But even with all the fuss and tantrums and drama, it was worth it in the end, wasn't it?"

"Definitely," said Sam, looking at Rachel again."The first time I laid eyes one you, you were just..."

"Perfect?" she supplied helpfully.

"More than... It's really hard to describe how I felt at that particular moment. I think I probably went completely blank for a second. Even with all the time we'd spent thinking about you, actually seeing you for the first time was so absolutely surreal. And to be honest, that's when I knew for sure that what we'd done, with legally stopping Shelby from being able to contact you, was the correct decision. She helped us, and I'll always be grateful for that, but you're our daughter, and I couldn't have anyone come up to me and challenge that."

"Dad, I... It wasn't wrong, what you did. I understand the fact that Shelby was, in fact, a surrogate, and that she wasn't ever supposed to be associated with me beyond that, but..."

"But what?"

"Maybe I would- Oh, I don't know..."

"Yeah you do. Come on, Rachel. It's fine to just say whatever it is that you want to say."

"I just don't understand what prevented you from ever bringing her up. I mean, what was the harm in just telling me about her?"

"What was the use?" said Joseph."We never told you about her because the way we saw it, there wasn't any need to. Ray, our situation isn't like the one Quinn's in right now. We planned out Shelby's role in all of this, and it was confined to the pregnancy. That's all there was to it. I never thought that we'd need to have a conversation about her with you."

"Why not though? I respect your sentiments, I honestly do or I would have asked you about her a long time ago."

"You would have?" said Joseph, a little surprised. Till now, he had been trying to convince himself that Shelby was the one who'd approached Rachel first, who'd planted the idea of meeting her mom in Rachel's head. But it seemed that it wasn't quite like that.

"I would have," said Rachel. She knew that she had to choose her next words carefully, because no matter what her thoughts on the matter, she didn't want to hurt her parents."It's not- It didn't have anything to do with you guys."

"Of course it has do to with us. If you were content with us, then the question of finding your mother would never have come up."

"Not my mother," said Rachel, silently regretting the times when she'd referred to Shelby the same way. Meeting the woman had made her realize that whatever Shelby was, or could become, she certainly wasn't a parent. Not for her, anyway."Not at all my mother. But still the woman who gave birth to me. Daddy, you have to believe me. It wasn't about you."

"But Ray, how did the thought of finding her, of wanting to meet her even enter your head? I mean, why would you want to see her if you were perfectly happy with your family."

"Because I was curious, and that's all. Daddy, you're complicating something that doesn't need to be complicated. I would have been content with getting all the required information from you, but since you never brought her up, I just didn't know how to initiate that conversation. I just... She's contributed something to who I am, even if it's just the way I look. I don't want a Mom, Daddy, I promise. I just wanted to know who she was. Can you really not understand that?" asked Rachel.

She knew that what she was saying wasn't the whole, entire truth, but she also knew that telling them the whole truth would just cause unnecessary problems. There were times when she had wondered how it would be like to have a mom, to be part of a so-called 'normal' family. But those thoughts were fleeting, only brought on when the kids at school teased her, or when she heard other kids talking about their mom. But then it would pass, because she knew that at the end of the day, her dads were the best parents in the universe bar none.

"I sort of can," said Sam, looking down at their intertwined hands. He stroked Rachel's delicate hand with his own much larger one before speaking."I don't really remember my Dad much. He died when I was too young, and Mom got too sad whenever she mentioned him. It's not at all the same situation, but I do get where you're coming from. I used to wonder how he looked, and if I was like him. Mom used to tell me that I walked just like he did, and I always wished I could somehow verify that. I never knew him, so it wasn't really about missing him or something. I'd just hear other kids go on about their parents and it'd make me wonder."

"But Sam-"

"I know, I know. It's different, but what I'm trying to say is that I do, in a way, understand your want to find her," he said, looking up at his daughter. His little girl was growing up so fast. There was a time when he could pick her up and swing her high up into the air and nothing remained in her world but her Dad. But no matter how much he may despise it, that wasn't the case anymore. She was discovering herself, the people around her and pushing her boundaries. They needed to get used to that.

"Thank you. Daddy, listen to Dad, please. I love both of you very, very much, and meeting Shelby isn't going to change that. If anything, she just made me feel grateful."

"She did?" asked Joseph more than a little skeptically.

"Yes. Shelby was talking about how difficult it was for the two of you to even be together, forget have a baby, and it did make me appreciate the effort it took for the two of you to oppose our entire society to bring me into this world and raise me as a confident individual," said Rachel, knowing that this would probably reassure Joseph a little. She was well aware of the hardships her parents had faced before Shelby had told her about how even the law was against them, but a little manipulation never hurt anyone.

"Well, yeah. She was always considerate of how our relationship was viewed by other people," conceded Joseph.

"Uh huh... Daddy, Shelby is just another new person in my life right now. She gave birth to me, yes, but our encounter today proved the fact that that doesn't count for much if you haven't seen the person even once in your entire life. And although I'd like to have the opportunity to get to know her, I won't do so if it bothers you too much."

"Ray, I wouldn't..." Joseph trailed off. It was one thing coming into her room fuming, expecting her to deny the entire thing and then defend Shelby. But it was quite another when she was being so agreeable about the entire thing. He couldn't exactly forbid her from seeing Shelby again when she put it like that. "I wouldn't be so hasty to make a decision. I mean, this is a lot for all of us to take in. We should probably take a few days to let it sink in, right?"

"Right," said Sam, hiding his smirk by turning away from his husband. It never ceased to amaze him how easily Rachel could manage Jo. It was so effortless that the other man never even realized it.

"Okay then. It's getting a bit too late, and we haven't had dinner yet. I cooked," said Joseph brightly.

"Quinn?"

"I think Quinn's perfectly content to not move her ass off her bed till she absolutely has to, honey. Kid needs her rest right now. You want to bring up your plates to her room?"

"Of course," said Rachel, groaning inwardly. She knew that she'd be up for another grilling when Quinn got her alone.

* * *

Review!


	23. Chapter 23

**Title:** My Private Nation

**Pairing: **Quinn/Rachel

**Rating: **R. They're so, so obviously in love. Secretly. And they are so, so obviously both girls. Not so secretly. Femslash, in case you didn't get it.

**Spoilers: **Takes place after EP 13 'Sectionals'. Contains major part of storyline up until EP22.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Glee, the songs, or even the characters.

**Author's Note: **Un-beta-ed for now so feel free to point out errors. Happy Reading and please R&R. Reviews are my lifeline. They also encourage me to write faster.

* * *

_"No, she wouldn't," said Sam, cutting off Joseph again. He knew that the only way they'd get anywhere was if he forced his partner to shut his brain off for a moment."She's still have all the talent, but who knows what she'd be doing with it? Rachel's not inclined towards Broadway because Shelby is too, Rachel's inclined towards Broadway because we are. She gives herself pep talks in the mirror every morning, just like you do. She-"_

_"Okay, okay. You're right. Let's go and talk to her," said Joseph, getting up from the window sill and grudgingly accepting the kiss Sam planted on his forehead before heading towards Rachel's room, his nervousness increasing with every step._

* * *

_Twenty three minutes later, he handed his bag to the cab-driver he'd called and went into the study with his keys where Judy was indeed waiting. He looked at her one last time as he gently dropped his keys down onto the table, but as she refused to acknowledge his presence, he turned around and walked out, shutting the door behind him._

* * *

_"Daddy, Shelby is just another new person in my life right now. She gave birth to me, yes, but our encounter today proved the fact that that doesn't count for much if you haven't seen the person even once in your entire life. And although I'd like to have the opportunity to get to know her, I won't do so if it bothers you too much."_

* * *

"Oh, you're totally awesome," said Quinn, switching off the TV and turning to Rachel who'd come in with dinner delicately balanced on one hand. "Sit." Without waiting for the brunette to follow her command, she snatched the plate out of Rachel's hand and was busy scarfing down food by the time the other girl had made herself comfortable.

"So, what were you doing holed up in your room for so long?" asked Quinn, still not bothering to look up from the plate. "You would normally have checked up on me five times by now."

"I was speaking to my dads... about Shelby."

"About Shelby... like Shelby Corcoran?"

"Well, yes. That is the only Shelby we know of who's worth discussing."

"Hmm... Oh God, I'm so sorry, but I'm just too hungry. You talk." Quinn shot Rachel an apologetic look and picked up the sandwich.

"It's so wonderful to have such an attentive audience... Quinn, you cannot possibly expect me to recount a rather serious conversation when you have sauce dripping down your chin."

"Such a snob." Quinn dabbed off said sauce and pushed her plate aside reluctantly. While she was still somewhat hungry, it wasn't as important as hearing what Rachel had to say. "Better now?"

"Much... My fathers seem to have a talent for eavesdropping and generally getting into my business. They heard us talking about her and decided that a... conversation was appropriate. And overdue."

"Oh... That must've been fun."

"Lots... I honestly thought I was taking their feelings into consideration by not telling them about Shelby, but I guess I never factored in them finding out about in on their own. They weren't very happy with it, especially Dad."

"What'd they say?"

"Not that much, really," said Rachel, fiddling with the edge of Quinn's bedsheet. "I have a feeling both of them are going to want to talk about it a lot more than we just did, but for now it was mostly just about getting over the initial shock of it for them. We mostly spoke about the why of it all... They were wondering whether I felt that our family was lacking in some way, if I had felt the need for a mother in my life."

"So basically this was just all the stuff that you'd been so worried about, right?"

"Well, yes, I suppose they did cover a large part of it..."

"Large part? I bet you guys ended up having the exact same conversation that we did, which, by the way, is fantastic."

"Oh, is it? I bet you wouldn't find it half as fantastic if it was you in that room... I wish they'd just talked to me about it instead of trying to ignore it like they did till something forced them to confront it."

"Rach, it must have been difficult for -"

"For them. Yes, logically, I'm aware of that. But right now, will you shut it please? Can't you leave the logic alone for a moment and just be my friend till I'm done? They should have told me."

"Right... They should have told you. I was just trying to be the rational friend, you know?"

"Well, be the supportive friend right now. Tell me how their method of approach completely sucked."

"... Well yeah, it sucked. You shouldn't have had to come to a point where they needed to eavesdrop on your conversations before saying something to you themselves."

"Thank you! Someone finally sees my point as well. They would never have had this insecurity if they'd been the ones to introduce the topic to me, thus curbing my innocent curiosity at the outset... But no, they had to wait and let everything fester - my questions and their fear... It must have been difficult for them as well, though, trying to talk about Shelby to me. Unnerving, most probably, and more than frightening enough for a year's worth of excitement... Their approach didn't really suck, you know? They were just trying to do the right thing, but unfortunately their judgement was moderately impaired. You can't really blame them for that, Quinn."

"Um... right. I can't," said Quinn patiently as the brunette went off on a tirade, knowing it was the best way for Rachel to get her thoughts sorted out. She knew that Rachel didn't really blame her dads at all - she had that much faith in Rachel's maturity - and that it was only her irritation speaking. Letting her get it all out would sort the brunette out in minutes.

"And they did come and speak to me at the end of it - I suppose that counts for something, doesn't it?"

"'Course it does... They could still have just kept you in the dark, or gone to Shelby behind your back or something, but they didn't."

"Exactly, and I would give them credit for that, if I could only forgive them for putting us in this situation in the first place. I did, of course, put on my best show-face in the effort to assure them that all was well—"

"And it is… Now that everyone knows that everyone else knows, we can all stop pretending to be a bunch of secret agents. I know," said Quinn quickly before Rachel could open her mouth again, "I know it won't really be easy. Lot to digest for everyone, isn't it? But you guys are… you guys are the nuts who process and talk and sing songs about stuff… so you'll be fine."

* * *

"**Where r u?**"

"**Find me;)"**

Rachel had taken to escorting her to class or Glee Club whenever their schedules allowed, and now it had become a game they played, the exchange of messages as they hid from each other.

"Gotcha!" The brunette always found her though. Quinn supposed she wasn't all that imaginative when it came to hiding places. "Now come on, we're already late for Glee."

"Like it matters. Mr. Schuester will be harping on about Journey as usual."

"What's wrong with Journey?"

"Well, nothing… for the first fifty times. Beyond that, boring. I get where Mr. Schue's coming from, but we've had a lot of music, good music, after Journey as well. I don't get why he's so hung up on them."

"Because Journey is… safe. You have to admit, Quinn, that with my voice and their lyrics, it's a winning combination."

"Yeah," said Quinn, rolling her eyes at the brunette's confidence ," but come on… I thought the point of this club was to encourage talent and togetherness. You're not doing that if you pick one genre of music and one performer."

"That… That's not true! It's what's best for the Club."

"No it's not. It's what's best for Schue's salary, not for Tina or S or even Mike. Glee's not supposed to be about whether you can sing or not, right? It's about getting everyone involved and that's not happening."

"Everyone does get involved in the Club! But when it comes to Regionals, we have to put our best foot forward."

"Sure… And maybe more of us would be able to do that if we got to pick the music ourselves – something we could relate to instead of something safe. It doesn't hurt to take a risk once in a while."

Come on, Quinn… Would you have let some newbie get to the top of your Cheerio's pyramid to take a risk?"

"That's different."

"Why? Because Mr. Schue's polite and Sue isn't? Winning still requires the best performers, no matter how nice you may want to be."

"That's convie —" Quinn shut up as they entered the music room, where Mr. Schue had scribbled the words "Journey" in bold on the white board.

"Ah, Rachel. Great timing. I was just talking about which songs we should cover. We're up against Vocal Adrenaline here, it's time to get serious, don't you think?"

"Of course, Mr. Schue. What do you propose?"

"I think it's time to go back to our roots – the song that brought this club together."

"You want us to do 'Rocking The Boat'."

"Um… I think he was referring to Don't Stop Believing, Finn."

"Exactly… That song represents everything about this club. It's our musical essence."

"Yeah, sure. The Hobbit and Finasauras – the essence of McKinley's Touring Circus of Fairies."

"Now Santana, Finn and Rachel would only be performing our opening number. All of you will get the chance to participate as well."

"You know what, I don't want to participate as their damn prop. How is it fair to the rest of us if they keep getting all the good songs?"

"She's right Mr. Schue. I'm not denying that Rachel can sing, but we're just as good, if not better. You can't be the one to keep deciding who gets which song. I think there should be some sort of fair judgement scheme."

"A diva off?"

"No, something more… Something that doesn't require us to shatter glass to prove ourselves."

"Who'd judge though?"

"A secret ballot then."

"Same problem – we'd all vote for ourselves."

"Wait. Hold on a sec guys," said Quinn, putting an end to the rapid-fire exchange of ideas. "I think we all agree that we need to do something different for Regionals… But don't you think we're focusing too much on who'll perform and not enough on what they'll perform?"

"Exactly! That's what I'm trying to say here – we need to bring back that same passion we had when we first started, without the worrying about who gets the limelight… We're a team, right?"

"Right," came the half-hearted reply.

"Then tell me, as a team – we're all okay with Journey?"

"Good, good… So that's one thing decided. I want this performance to have an old world charm to it, so I have an assignment for you guys. Don't worry, nothing you can't handle. This week, we'll be – courting."

He could tell by the look on their faces that half of them didn't know what to make of it and the other half weren't really that thrilled with it, but it was perfect, it really was. The scene Will wanted to set up this year was simple, old school, boy meets girl, boy chases girl and the promise of happily ever after. They needed to perfect the chemistry now for it to show on stage then.

"But, unlike what we generally do, pairs won't be assigned by chits – you're free to choose. Get the person you'd be most comfortable with, and I'll explain the rest of it to you."

It was stupid, she knew, but for a moment Quinn and wondered if she could ask Rachel to team up with her. It's not like either of them had boyfriends to skip over to at the moment. Rachel, apparently, had the same thought as she looked over at the blond but before either of them could move, Finn was standing in front Rachel, his massive frame blocking Quinn's view.

"So um… I know that things haven't been, like, that great between us… But I was kinda wondering, if you'd like to like, um… pair with me for this one? We're perfect for this, aren't we?"

This was pretty much all that Rachel had been wanting for the past year, albeit not in the form of a Glee assignment and not after recent events, but old habits couldn't be helped.

"It'd be wonderful to be your partner for this project, Finn. I'm sure it would contribute to enhancing our presence on stage."

"Awesome!"

The rest of the couples were fairly obvious too; Santana had gone with Matt – she knew Puck was a lost cause for the time being and let him moon over Quinn. Who'd do the courting between Mercedes and Kurt was still a little unclear, Tina was probably the only one who'd pick Artie as a partner after the way he'd been behaving and Mike had gravitated towards Brittany because he knew no one else would be willing to work with him and his missing vocal cords.

"Alright then, now that you've sorted yourselves out, let's get on to the assignment itself. You have to perform one ballad together by the end of this week, but while preparing that, you must woo your partner as well! So get the dinner reservations, suits and flowers out guys. It's romance week at McKinley."

* * *

So.. New chapter. Funsies. It's been ages, but Glee had just kind of lost that_ thing_ in season 3, and season 4's gone and brought it back. Next chapter is in progress, reviews and suggestions are always welcome.


	24. Chapter 24

**Title:** My Private Nation

**Pairing: **Quinn/Rachel

**Rating: **R. They're so, so obviously in love. Secretly. And they are so, so obviously both girls. Not so secretly. Femslash, in case you didn't get it.

**Spoilers: **Takes place after EP 13 'Sectionals'. Contains major part of storyline up until EP22.**  
**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Glee, the songs, or even the characters.

**Author's Note:** Happy Reading and please R&R. Reviews are my lifeline. They also encourage me to write faster.

* * *

_"Much... My fathers seem to have a talent for eavesdropping and generally getting into my business. They heard us talking about her and decided that a... conversation was appropriate. And overdue."_

* * *

_ "Good, good… So that's one thing decided. I want this performance to have an old world charm to it, so I have an assignment for you guys. Don't worry, nothing you can't handle. This week, we'll be – courting."_

_ "You have to perform one ballad together by the end of this week, but while preparing that, you must woe your partner as well! So get the dinner reservations, suits and flowers out guys. It's romance week at McKinley."_

* * *

Now it was getting irritating. It had been just two days since Mr. Schue had handed out their assignment, and there wasn't a moment that Finn didn't use to try to sidle up to Rachel.

"I'm really, really sorry Quinn. I'd even put it down in my calendar with a photograph of the baby I had gotten off . But Finn's already gotten the tickets, and I can't say no."

"Don't worry about it… It's just another check-up. "

"Get me pictures?"

"Of course. You're more interested in them than me anyway… Can we maybe—" Quinn's proposal to spend the afternoon together was cut off by Finn, who had just been freed from football practice.

"Hey Rachel! Quinn" he said, sweat still dripping down his head. "You ready? I'll just change and come."

"Sure… Hurry, I'm waiting," said Rachel, flashing him her most winning smile. Grinning at her response, Finn ran off, leaving Rachel and Quinn standing around awkwardly on the field.

"Sorry, you were saying?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing… Actually, maybe we could um… double date or something. You know, the four of us?"

"That's a brilliant idea! We'll set up something immediately. I'm sure Finn would be thrilled to be able to bond with Noah again."

"Speaking of the Puckasauras, Berry? Hey babe," said Puck, leaning down to give Quinn a kiss, which she neatly deflected with a whack on his arm.

"Assignment, Puck. Glee assignment."

"I take my assignments seriously, ok? I'm just trying to be all committed and stuff, no harm in having a little fun with it, right?"

"In your dreams , Puckerman. Now, what d'you want?"

"Aww come on baby mama, help me out here. I can't be all romantic and shit if you don't even pretend to dig the guns."

"Fine. I dig the guns. Happy?"

"You could've tried harder," said Puck, trying his level best to sulk.

"You know Quinn, he does have a point. It's not often that you'll catch me handing out advice to my competition, but since you also happen to be a dear friend and unfortunately partnered, I'll make an exception. If you're going to have any hopes of winning this thing, you need to be more supportive of each other. I'm sure the double date will be most productive."

"What double date?"

"Oh, I forgot we hadn't informed you yet. Finn and I would like you and Quinn to join us for a double date at Breadsticks. I hope it won't clash with any of your plans."

"Sure it won't, considering Quinn won't let us make any plans."

"Double date it is. Tomorrow, say?"

"See you there Berry. Let me go shower, and I'll drop you guys off."

"It's alright, Noah. I'll be leaving with Finn."

"Quality time with my cranky baby mama. Awesome," said Puck with a grimace, and left to get the grime off himself.

"You know, I think I'd rather just go on my own. It'll be better than those sad, sad looks he's started giving me these days."

"Quinn, if you're that eager to avoid him, why'd you partner with him in the first place?"

"Not like I had much choice, is there? He was the first person who asked, and I didn't think anyone else would be interested, so I said yes… He's not that bad a partner, singing wise, but it's the other stuff that makes me want to break his neck."

"Well, on the plus side, it's only a week," said Rachel, not all that sorry that Quinn wasn't happy with Puck. There'd been this nagging feeling at the back of her mind that the blonde may still harbour feelings for him, and while Noah wasn't a bad guy, she knew Quinn deserved better.

"A week's worth of whining… but you're right. It could be worse… and I'm gonna go before he gets back."

"You could go with us. Our place is on the way to Finn's."

"No, that's fine," said Quinn, not interested in another watching Finn drool over Rachel for another half an hour. "What're you going to his place for, anyway?"

"Song rehearsals. Finn thinks he has the perfect tune in mind, but he won't tell me till we get there."

"Oh… Well, at least someone's having fun."

"You know, I really am. Finn is being unexpectedly considerate. I had thought that he, at best, would go along with my plans, but he seems to be making his own as well."

"Um… Fantastic. See you guy later, Rach."

"Are you sure you'll go alone?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it. Bye."

* * *

Double dates sucked. Quinn had thought that this might lead to two or three hours of the boys discussing… well, discussing boy topics while she ate in peace, but it was fast turning into a gag fest.

Finn and Rachel, being Finn and Rachel, were taking the assignment pretty much to the word and being sappy, for lack of a better word. Quinn, as a matter of principle, didn't particularly like PDA, but when it was Finn and Rachel PDA, she abhorred it.

Every time he leaned over to touch her, the times they were feeding each other little nibblets, it made her insanely, irrationally jealous. It wasn't as if she was the one who wanted to be doing that – not a super clichéd kinda girl – but then she didn't want Finn freakin' Hudson doing it either.

It didn't help, really, that Rachel was looking beautiful tonight. Whatever Rachel had been doing to improve her fashion sense was clearly working, and Finn wasn't the only person in the tiny diner staring at her.

"Rach, you've got a little something on your – " Quinn pointed to the general vicinity of her mouth, where the brunette had managed to smear her dinner.

"Where?"

"Here," said Finn, wiping it away casually with his hand.

"You know, she does have hands." She could put it down to hormones all she wanted, but Quinn knew that the real reason she got annoyed enough to say that was because Finn getting within an inch of Rachel was not something she could stand.

"Yeah, well she has me too, so what's your problem?"

"I – Nothing. No problem at all. If you'll excuse me," said Quinn as calmly as she could, getting up and going to the restroom before she threw something at Finn.

"Quinn!... I'll just go and see what's wrong."

"Hey, it's okay," said Finn, gently catching Rachel's arm and pulling her back onto her seat. "She's fine, probably just needs to pee. Girls do that a lot when they're, y'know…"

"Pregnant, dude. When they're pregnant."

"Are you sure? Maybe she needs something."

"Nah, Finn's right. She'll be back in no time."

It was probably a good thing that they kept Rachel where she was. Standing in that teeny little Breadsticks restroom, Quinn was pretty much ready to throttle anyone who came in, even if it was the tiny brunette.

It hadn't been like this, Quinn reasoned. She'd always been okay with Rachel and Finn, or as okay as a girl could be with her arch enemy and former boyfriend hooking up… Or had she? Since becoming friends with Rachel, or whatever it was that they'd become, there'd never been much of a chance for her to think of Rachel and Finn together because they just weren't.

And now they were, or going to be anyway. It was Finn, and he was being nice for a change. Quinn had a sinking feeling that Rachel would yet again fall for his nonsensical crap. The girl who she knew to be so stubborn, independent, fierce… that same girl still didn't mind licking that oaf's feet.

It wasn't fair. It just was not fair that Finn got that happy ending when he didn't even deserve it. Stupid, stupid little git. Quinn had this overwhelming urge to stomp her feet, kick stuff around and just throw a good old fashioned tantrum to get the irritation out of her system. That not being a feasible option at the moment, she chose to give a scathing look to the poor waitress on her way back to the table.

"Sorry. Baby bladder," she said, flashing her most artificial smile. The boys gave Rachel an 'I-told-you-so look' and continued eating.

The rest of the meal was fairly uneventful, with Quinn repeatedly poking Puck with a fork as his hands wandered and Finn lavishing more attention on Rachel than was strictly required, even squabbling to pay the bill.

Going home was another kind of torture – Journey songs and moon-eyed Finn. The view helped though, with the streetlights taking her attention away from what was happening in the front seat till they reached home.

"Thanks for the evening, Finn. It was wonderful."

"Just for you."

"I'll… um, just be upstairs. Bye Finn." Quinn slipped past them, pretty sure that neither of them even heard or noticed her at that moment.

Rachel did notice though, and wish more than anything that the girl had asked her in too, giving her a reasonable excuse to escape from the awkward silence that hung in the air. But she hadn't, and Rachel was now stuck here.

"You wanna go for a walk?"

"Sure."

They roamed around aimlessly on the streets for a while, the gentle breeze allowing Rachel to get lost in her thought.

Tonight had been fun in a nice, comfortable sort of way – a night out with friends, but there wasn't that nervous flutter in her chest that normally accompanied Finn's presence.

At the start of the assignment she hadn't known what to expect; Jesse and then Shelby had left her with no time to think of Finn since they'd broken up, and she herself hadn't understood her feelings for the boy. After the initial urge to whack Mr. Schue over the head had worn off, she'd been thankful to him for the assignment. Pointless though it was in terms of Glee, it sorted out a good chunk of her life.

She wasn't the same person she'd been when she'd first met Finn; that infatuated girl was gone and he was a real person to her now, not the perfect, hunky jock she'd dreamed of for months. He wasn't the ideal showman – she could hear the cracks in his voice now, see the way he faltered when he'd played Counter Strike instead of practising. More importantly, though, she could see the flaws that made him unique, made him Finn and made him the boy she wanted as nothing more than her friend.

His shows of affection, the way he would touch her every now and then served only to make her uncomfortable, even though she didn't let it show. It didn't feel right anymore, not after everything that had happened between them.

To an outsider, she may seem indecisive, but that's who Rachel was – she gave herself completely, over and over again no matter how much it hurt, till there was nothing left to give. But once she was out of energy no gestures or apologies could pull her back, as Finn should have figured out.

She was jarred out of her thoughts when he pulled her hand out of her pocket and took it in his own, walking straight with a slight smile on his face. A slight tug was all it took to bring her hand back, and luckily all he did was give her a questioning look.

They walked around for a while before Finn hesitantly broke the silence, talking haltingly about random topics that made no sense whatsoever in an effort to start a conversation. Rachel took pity on him after some time and took the burden of speaking off him.

It wasn't a conversation worth mentioning, but it made her feel good. Rachel had forgotten how good a listener Finn could be when he made the effort, and he was certainly making an effort tonight. Their ramble managed to make sense to both of them, and it was like no time had passed before they were back on the porch of Rachel's house.

"So…"

"So…"

"That was fun. It's been such a long time since we've talked like that."

"Yes, it really was. I'd like to do that again sometime, Finn."

"Me too. You wanna stay in school tomorrow and practice? We only have one day left to perfect the song."

"Sure. I'll see you there, then."

"Bye Rach." He was about to turn around, but stopped just long enough to place a quick kiss on her cheek and was in the car before she could say a word.

The house was completely quiet when she entered and glancing at the time made her realize why – she'd been out with Finn for nearly two hours and it was just past one now. There were about 5 missed calls and three messages on her phone – the former from the landline, and the latter from Quinn. Shit.

Her dads were asleep – she assumed Quinn had told them where she was, and the lights of Quinn's room were off. Tiptoeing around as quietly as possible, she got ready for bed but lying in the soft, cool blankets, with her night cream and eye mask safely on, Rachel found that sleep was eluding her. The walk should have helped, but she knew that a key element of her night time ritual was missing.

Throwing off her covers, Rachel proceeded to Quinn's room. She knew the blonde would probably be asleep, but snuck in anyway – a late night chat with Quinn had become pretty much mandatory for her.

"Hey," Rachel whispered, lowering herself on the bed as gently as possible. "Little late today, wasn't I? I'm sorry, but I just lost track of time."

"S'kay." the half asleep blond rolled over to face Rachel. "Can't sleep without you anyway."

"Me neither," Rachel smiled. "Did I wake you?"

"Mmm… lil' bit. Talk," said Quinn, wrapping her arms around the other girl's waist and pulling her closer.

"Oooh… who knew Quinn Fabray was a secret cuddler. Are you sure I'm not disturbing you, sweetie?"

"Hmm… Now talk."

"'Kay. The weather's gorgeous… all wind and music. I swear we need to get onto the roof more often – you'll like it… Sometimes I look outside and wonder how the sky'll be looking in New York."

"Better."

"Definitely better… It's so odd hearing some people say how they love where they've been living and that they'd never move away. I can't wait to move away – Ohio for the next two years is enough to make me shudder, let alone forever. Can you imagine how amazing it'd be – the vibrancy, the pace and the people. God, Quinn, the people! I just know that they'll be so different from the ones in Lima – the way they perceive life. That's the mind-set I want to experience once… And you're too fast asleep for this, aren't you?" said Rachel, happening to glance down in the middle of her monologue to the girl who's head was currently resting in her lap.

Quinn's eyes had fluttered shut despite herculean efforts to keep them open, and Rachel could tell that she'd fallen into a peaceful slumber. Still, she stayed with the blonde for a couple more minutes, not wanting to get up. It was when she felt her legs tingling from numbness that she knew it was probably a wise idea to go to her own room.

Easing herself out of Quinn's grip, she smiled to herself when the blonde took her time in letting go. Quinn was one of the least physically affectionate people she knew; it was only in this sleep induced state that she cuddled anything in her proximity.

"G'night Quinn."

"Night… Don't go."

"Wish I could stay, sweetie. But we do have to go to school tomorrow, you know… C'mon Quinn."

"Hmm". The blonde finally let go of Rachel, rolling over and falling back into a snore-punctuated sleep.

Still smiling at the memory of her conversation with Quinn while lying in her own bed a couple of moments later, Rachel couldn't get that moment out of her head. There was something incredibly endearing about the way Quinn held on to her, almost making her regret her decision of coming back to her own room. The rest of the night wiped out of her mind, Rachel slept with the memory of the blonde's grip on her.

* * *

The 'audition' itself was a piece of cake compared to the torture the preparation had been. Rachel and Finn won, mainly because Quinn was a pretty good campaigner and Santana felt obligated to support her. Mr. Schue was, as usual, beaming throughout.

"See, wasn't that hard, was it? I knew you guys would do the right thing for the club at the end of the day. Now that we've –"

"Mr. Schue, a moment please. I'm sorry to interrupt, but before we focus our energy on our plan of attack, I'd like to thank my colleagues for the faith they have shown in me. One day, when I'm standing in front of Barbra Streisand to accept my Tony –"

"Rach, it's okay."

"Quinn, you must let me express my gratitude."

"No Rachel, really. It's fine. We know you love us, and we love you, but it's already getting late and we need to get a rough idea of what we have to do before leaving." Quinn had no problems listening to whatever Rachel had to say, but she suspected the rest of the room wasn't as patient.

"She's right, Rachel. I'm sure everyone knows how much you appreciate their vote of confidence, so let's get down to business. We have our routine now – Finn and Rachel, followed by two group numbers."

"I was thinking, instead of going with just the usual Journey songs, we could do something different – maybe a mash-up," said Rachel, glancing over at Quinn, who's idea it had originally been. If they had to do Journey, they could at least do it their own way.

"Excellent idea. Well then, there we have it. Finn, Rachel – work out which number you want to do and start rehearsals. We'll all give our inputs once you start off. The rest of you, let's get to work on that mash-up."

It was a gruelling task – time management was never their strong suit. Quinn didn't know whether to thank her genes or Sue Sylvester, but she didn't really feel as exhausted as she was supposed to this late into her pregnancy.

Given the short amount of time they had left, it was practice every day after classes. Rachel, of course, skipped whichever classes she could to rehearse, and Quinn would accompany her more often than not. Being pregnant had its perks – or not.

_"I'm yours, faithfully... No, no no! It's just not working."_

_"Rachel, it is. It's working fine."_

_"No it's not. I can practically see myself going into the wrong octave."_

_"And I can see you freaking out – you're doing great, just like always."_

_"Great isn't going to be good enough for this – I need perfection. No, I need more than perfection. I need to channel my inner Streisand and that isn't happening right now."_

_"Um… or maybe it is and you're just not listening to her."_

_Rachel gave Quinn a look that was beyond ludicrous, and that was the end of it. _

* * *

**One more chapter and it'll be a wrap on Season 1. Took long enough, I guess. Somewhere in the middle of the story, it just became difficult for me to take Quinn and Rachel in the direction I wanted to - my characters didn't seem to want to listen to me, but I think that's finally been sorted out and the outline I have has shaped up decently. And we have Quinn on Glee(finally!). So yay!**


	25. Chapter 25

**Title:** My Private Nation

**Pairing: **Quinn/Rachel

**Rating: **R. They're so, so obviously in love. Secretly. And they are so, so obviously both girls. Not so secretly. Femslash, in case you didn't get it.

**Spoilers: **Takes place after EP 13 'Sectionals'. Contains major part of storyline up until EP22.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Glee, the songs, or even the characters.

**Author's Note: **Un-beta-ed for now so feel free to point out errors. Happy Reading.

* * *

_Now it was getting irritating. It had been just two days since Mr. Schue had handed out their assignment, and there wasn't a moment that Finn didn't use to try to sidle up to Rachel._

* * *

_Double dates sucked. Quinn had thought that this might lead to two or three hours of the boys discussing… well, discussing boy topics while she ate in peace, but it was fast turning into a gag fest. _

_Finn and Rachel, being Finn and Rachel, were taking the assignment pretty much to the word and being sappy, for lack of a better word._

* * *

_"Coach Sylvester's one of the judges." Cue chaos. _

* * *

She wasn't sure if the flutters in her stomach were being caused by the huge Show Choir Championship Sign looming over her head or the baby getting restless, but she ignored them anyway. She was Quinn Fabray – winner of National Championships with Sue breathing down her neck. This was a piece of cake compared to that.

And then she saw the look on Rachel's face and realized that it wasn't – this meant too much to the brunette, which in turn meant it meant too much to her. They needed to win this thing. If only the kid would stop kicking her.

"Quinn, are you alright?" asked Rachel, even as the blonde tried to conceal her grimace.

"Yeah, yeah. Stage fright."

"Don't worry about it. We've practised so much that you could do it in your sleep."

The brunette's words were more for herself than they were for Quinn. Sure, she'd had stage fright before – it was one of those things that never went away – but one push to get out there and she'd forget everything but her audience. Except her daddy wasn't well and her dad couldn't leave him and come. She'd insisted, but standing in front of the entrance to the stage, Rachel was cursing her generosity. Why was she so damn nice? And why hadn't her dad just insisted on coming – did he not know that she needed him there? He was her dad. He_ should_ have insisted.

It didn't really register, what Finn had said, till their names were called on stage.

_"I love you."_

It should have caused some reaction. Even if they were performing, it should have stuck with her. But it didn't – that was the first clue. Or would have been anyway, if the events after their performance left her any time to think.

They'd been good – really good. Better than Sectionals, better than Aural Asskissers, but she didn't know if they'd be better than Vocal Adrenaline. They were awesome and due to perform. And who was that waiting for them?

Judy. In the green room. And the adrenaline from the performance still coursing through Rachel. Judy was talking. Rachel couldn't really concentrate.

"My water just broke."

Quinn had said… wait. What?

In the moment it took Rachel to comprehend what just happened, half the club was hovering over the blonde as Mr. Schue went to get his car out of the parking lot.

"Come on, sweetie. The car's out front."

Judy was on one side of the blonde and Puck on the other. Rachel had thought she was tiny, but even then there was barely enough space to squeeze past her teammates and near the blonde.

The contractions had started. Or maybe they'd started before and no one had noticed. Because they were coming too fast and they weren't supposed to be this fast this quick. Stupid, stupid competition. Stupid… was she really calling Regionals stupid?

"Rach."

It took her a moment again. Damn.

"Rachel! … Listen, stay." Contraction.

"Quinn's right. We need someone here. What if they announce the results and no one takes the trophy? Disqualified on the spot. Rachel, you stay here – we'll call you as soon as we get there."

"Um… okay. Sure." She stopped at the door, watching them all try to cram into the car. Why had Quinn asked her to stay?

"What? No, I didn't—"

"Sweetie, get into the car. Quick now, we don't want the baby coming out in the middle of the street."

_"Stay with me." _That's what she was going to say before the contraction hit and she was left breathless. Were these people stupid – why the heck would she ask Rachel to stay behind?

"Mom, I want Rachel to come with me. Tell her."

"Quinnie, I remember you told her to stay." God, she hated it when her mother spoke to her like she was five.

"Stay here. With me. Mom, don't argue. Get her here." The car was already moving.

"The other car. I'll get her to come in the other car with the Hummels. We really can't stop right now, can we?"

"Fine." Another contraction. Yeah, stopping was not a good idea. "Just… make sure she's there."

Puck was 'borrowing' a bike to his house first – getting some stuff he'd wanted to give the kid before going to the hospital.

Rachel had picked up a bottle of water from somewhere that she was shoving into Puck's hand as he passed her.

"For Quinn. She's going to shout so much… and her throat gets dry extremely fast. But she won't drink it – she'll just shout some more and you'll have to force her to get some water down her throat. "

He looked down at the bottle and then back up at her. "Why aren't you coming?"

"She asked me to stay."

"What?"

"She—Just go, Noah. And call me. Please."

* * *

**So.. Short. But quick. I have a question - what should Rachel do now?**


End file.
